Black Flames
by Benevolent Darkness
Summary: "The world will bow before me. Only then can true peace be attained." When Voldemort tries to kill the children of prophecy, everything goes wrong. Harry changes, affecting everybody around him and giving him a new purpose. The corruption of humanity will be revealed and soon society will fall. Godlike Harry who is a manipulative bastard.
1. ToC and info Page

**This page serves as a table of contents and information screen.**

**Section 1: Reviews.**

First order of business, I would kindly ask for people to review. I will admit that I'm human and enjoy hearing positive reinforcement that won't make me tear my heart out in depression. I will also ask that people give me some tips to improve my writing. If your review isn't constructive in any way, or encouraging, I will reply in a way that you don't like. I have seen stories where authors get reviews that aren't really reviews. They're more like threats. "If you don't do this, I'll make sure you're removed from the site" and that sort of bullshit. Don't even try.

**Section 2: Writing Style.**

I will warn you right now. I have a tendency to change my writing style monthly. It usually follows the style of what I read. Right now it is the fusion of two books that I have read in English, one which is a post-apocalyptic thriller and the other which centers around death. The random blurbs and foreshadowing is from the death one, while the disjointed sentences is from the first. This is as of 6/16/12.

**Section 3: Chapter Summaries.**

This will be updated continually and will allow previews of the next chapter. To figure out how many people are actually reading this, I may do some fun stuff and trivia to let people determine how my story will turn out.

Prologue: Green Eyes in the Night.

An introduction of the characters Harry and Brendon, twins. Those who know of the movies and books will have a start when they realize that the only similarity of cannon Harry and this one are the green eyes.

Prologue: Red eyes in the Night.

Space and time travel sends Harry and Brendon to an alternate dimension before Harry is marked to be killed. Harry wakes up at Privet Drive and takes control of Vernon Dursley. Petunia is oblivious.

Prologue: A Key to Unlock the Door.

This title alludes to Kingdom Hearts. Harry, having found out about his sharingan, later awakens his powers over darkness and nothingness. We get to also see some of Harry's powers.

Prologue: An Impure World of Purity

This chapter begins with some new powers. We also get to see Dumbledor scream "Holy Shit!" Harry is summoned by Edo Tensei, with the technique thinking that he's Madara. This chapter is a bit of crack and a bit of action. It makes fun of Gaara, Sasuke and Itachi Uchiha, and points out some anime clichés. It ends with a fight between Harry, Gaara, and Kabuto.

Prologue: A Warrior of Light.

A dedication to Brendon Potter and his training with Dumbledor, and the showing of our friend Hermione Granger.

Prologue: An Impure World of Purity part II

An ending to the first big fight, and an introduction to several important people from the organization Akatsuki.

Prologue: A Kick to the Head, A Kick to the Heart.

Gaara awakens. What starts as conversation turns into argument and finally a cruel acceptance. With Ron, it becomes a tangible hate.

Prologue: A Warrior of Light: Awakening and Betrayal.

After a heartless attack, Brendon shows up in the station of awakening. This chapter also includes Hermione's government problems and another person finds out about Ron's secret.

Prologue: A Kickass Warrior of Light.

What challenges does Ron face in the place he goes? And what happened to that particular… book?

**Section 4: Characters (Prologue)**

**HARRY'S SIDE**

Harry Potter: With the experiences of so many dark men, Harry can only look at the evil in life. He sees the corruption and fallout of the world, and sees himself as the only hope for the future. He has decided that the only way to bring peace is to rule with an iron fist and force people into peace. Harry is pessimistic by nature and very demanding. He dislikes being ordered around, but he knows tact and when to do what. His only priority is to become strong and rule the world.

Abilities:

Basic immortality- unable to die with age or disease.

Fast regeneration- heals at an accelerated pace. The speed of healing depends on the size of the wound. Everything can regenerate except for brain, heart, or head.

Sharingan eyes-

Eye of day: level 1- conjure inanimate objects. Size and power is based on energy used.

Level 2- Bring inanimate objects to life and make people believe anything he says as long as nothing disproves what he says.

Level 3- Fireproofing.

Eye of Desire: Level 1- Rewrite people's minds and memories and take direct control of people's bodies' for a short while. Cast unparalleled illusions.

Level 2- Control what everybody sees and knows with eye contact and insane power over own mind.

Level 3- Ability to insert memories into anything, making every memory a reality. This works on inanimate objects as well.

Control over heartless

Keyblade of darkness- a keyblade capable of turning any heart to darkness. If the hate in that heart is strong enough, the heartless will retain a human appearance.

Dark magic- certain magic that has a core of black magic. It is the opposite of elemental magic.

Chakra- a mixture of physical and spiritual power. Stronger than magic, but not as versatile.

Acid and Corrosive manipulation

Tenseiga- a sword capable of resurrecting the dead souls of fallen comrades. The owner must have a vacant body and must know the resurrectee to resurrect the person. Also able to heal practically any wound.

Bakuseiga- Amplifies power exponentially. Capable of widespread destruction. Most useful when there aren't any allies on the field.

Jack of all trades proficiency- is insanely good at most arts such as sword fighting and hand to hand.

Vernon Dursley: The husband of Petunia, if you haven't guessed. At first, he was completely against the idea of Harry entering their home, but after some 'convincing', he changed completely. Harry rewrote his past to make him believe that he was born and raised to be Harry's slave and guardian. And thus began the worship and exuberant love he held towards Harry and all that the god was. Vernon would do anything for Harry. Anything.

**THE LIGHT SIDE**

Albus Dumbledor: The manipulator. He looks at the dark and scoffs. He will do anything to make light prevail over darkness. His greatest pawns are Harry and Brendon. He pushes Harry as the next dark lord, and with his influence, he has made Harry out to be the world's greatest antagonist. He teaches Brendon to be the leader of peace, and is using him to take down Harry as practice for the rising of Voldemort. His disposition to light is so great, it attracted the nameless beings of light…

Abilities:

Proficient Wand magic- magic done through a medium such as a wand or staff. Very versatile and powerful.

Knowledge- he is simply very wise and able to think things through.

**UNKOWNS**

Brendon Potter: He is delusional in the sense that he can only see his brother Harry in a positive light, and doesn't know why. Even after all of the crap fed to him by everybody else, he can't get the notion of 'good Harry' out of his head. He is slightly arrogant, but is not a snob. He cares for everybody and has a very innocent mindset. His main goal is to prove Harry's innocence of everything people are blaming him for.

Abilities:

Elemental magic- the opposite of dark magic. Bends elements to his will by calling out the name.

Wand magic- magic done through a medium such as a wand or staff. Very versatile.

Hermione Granger: She is a happy-go-lucky girl that sees the good in everything. She trusts easily, but because of her strange powers, she doesn't make friends easily. One of her best friends is Anthony Oak. She is also very smart book wise. She can memorize anything.

Abilities:

Lightning elemental- can do pretty much anything with electricity. This includes power over the nervous system.

Ron Weasly: A brash half demon that was born with the memories of Inuyasha Taicho of the dog demons. He is fairly stupid, but has a good heart. While many accept him, his father, after finding out, resents him secretly. He hasn't told Molly of his hatred. Yet.

Abilities:

Blood energy- using the demonic power in his blood, he can supercharge his body to throw fast and powerful attacks at others.

Basic wand magic- he is inexperienced at using wand magic, but knows the basics.

**AKATSUKI**

Arthur Weasly: This man seeks to bring peace by destroying the world's corrupt governments. He holds very idealistic views on everything and knows what he likes and doesn't like. When he saw his son as a demon, they had a falling out because Arthur believes that demons don't deserve to exist in a perfect society. He hopes for a brighter future, but determines everybody's fates with but a glance.

Abilities:

Chakra- a mixture of physical and spiritual power. Stronger than magic, but not as versatile.

Wand magic- magic done through a medium such as a wand or staff. Versatile.

Sharingan eyes-

Eye of rage: level 1- throws people into uncontrollable rages.

Level 2- ?

Eye of loss: level 1-creates illusions that show people the loss of their loved ones

Level 2- precognitive powers showing the death of those he is near.

Juan Erikson: He was born in the United States of America to two less than perfect parents. After running away, he became proficient in fighting and won many international martial arts tournaments. He is a firm believer in fate and believes that it is his fate to bring all evil to justice. He also worships Arthur Weasley for the man's great and noble goals.

Abilities:

Byakugan- eyes that grant almost 360 degrees and above. Can also see through objects.

Hand to hand proficiency- can fight an opponent in hand to hand and win almost always.

**MISCELLANEOUS**

Petunia Dursley: Before she dies a horrible death… she doesn't really hate magic. She was just jealous towards her sister for having things she doesn't. After many years, she realized her folly and wanted to make it up to her, but Lily was dead by then. She goes to the next best person and that is Harry. She is nice to him for selfish reasons- to take the guilt away. She is kind and helpful to others, though we don't see that, because it isn't important to the story. What is, is Harry's so called 'friendship' with her.

Anthony Oak: The betrayer. His life centers around betrayal. Everybody betrayed him, and in turn, he lives and thrives off of the pain. He is a pyromaniac, but has shown no outward specialty… yet.

**Section 5: Theory**

For the sharingan, it is stated in the show and manga that every eye is different (even though for some reason everybody can spew out amaterasu and such). I took this idea and gave each eye a symbol and centered the abilities around that symbol. I'm planning to do the same with the rin'negan and its basis in the realm of reality and life/death.

Chakra is physical and mental energy. Demonic energy is also like chakra, only one would change the physical aspect with a darker nature aspect which is more potent. Magic is of a spiritual aspect and grows with the soul. The levels of each one affect that of the others. As one rises, the others rise, as well. The amount that one would influence another is the amount one would jump if the first was to rise.

**Section 6: Challenge Influence**

This section is for challenges that I will issue to people. I would like responses in the reviews. The first line of a review will be the answer, and the following lines will be your response to what I allow. If I say that the third person with the correct answer gets to choose whatever character dies, then you may put how they die and which character, etc. after the answer.

The current ones are:

Q: What is the technical term for a goldfish?

Your answer will allow you to decide number 2 through 10 in Akatsuki. Multiple people allowed, and all answers will be considered.

Q: Where do I live? Be more specific than country.

Your answer will determine what character will have the worst time with Harry. As in, who should Harry pwn into next year when he arrives and people try to kill him for being evil as they're all told? Can't be Dumbledor or Hermione or Draco. (I have special plans for Draco.)

Q: What object of power will Harry get to achieve the Rin'negan?

Your answer will let you make other characters to be reincarnations. You choose the reincarnation, abilities, and background of the characters and their affiliation. This is open to all, and I will use the ones that I agree with. I will not tell you if you are right or wrong, either, until I get to the part. It will be after Harry begins schooling. The question will change frequently, but the reward will stay the same.

**Section 7: Techniques used.**

**WAND SPELLS:**

Pennata Inspiratione- The holy version of the bludgeoning hex. It beats darkness like a wife beats her husband.

**COMMAND SPELLS:**

Fire- Gives some power over fire. What this spell does is dependent on the person's will and imagination.

**CHAKRA TECHNIQUES:**

Midnight Fire Style: Crimson Black Cremation- gives fire the qualities of darkness making it burn eternally. It only stops burning when there is nothing left of the targeted victim. One can evade it easily because it is slow. If one is hit, they must cut off the offending limb, or suffer death. It is said that the heat can be felt even in the soul…

**Section 8: Notes.**

**6/19/12- **If you are reading this, start a review as "I think that your first page is stupid" and then begin the next part as "I think you should…" and state what you want me to do for the fourth year tri-wizard tournament. Some things to consider are if you want to have different trials and mysteries to build up to those trials, should Harry be in the tournament at all, if both Harry and Brendon should be in it, how Harry can humiliate Voldemort and still allow the man to live, etc. I will use multiple ideas from multiple people. This is just to see how many people actually read this part. If you don't want to respond to anything, then just write "Yes, that is all." And put your review afterwards, if any.

**7/19/12-** Sorry about the long wait, but I was on vacation and am about to go on vacation once more. I'll update in two weeks when I get back.


	2. prologue: Green Eyes in the Night

**Prologue: Green Eyes in the Night.**

That night, the world stood frozen. An eclipse seemed to have settled over the night sky giving darkness a new meaning and a new shade. Still nothing moved. Nothing except the roar of flames on a dilapidated house that was once a pristine home to a family of, recently, three. There were two deaths in that house in the last hour, and it would have been three. But, something odd happened. Instead of the killee dying, it was by some miraculous and unexplainable event (though if you knew what had actually happened, you would all say 'of course that would happen') that a boy survived his brush with death and managed to annihilate the killer.

Does that make him a killer?

Does that make the one-year-old baby a murderer, even if unintentionally?

Maybe. But, then again, the killer never did die.

Suddenly everything blurred into motion. Screams filled the air and some people ran, only to run back to witness the inferno that was a house. The house was in shambles. The night stayed blacker than black and the taste of charcoal began to spread. Wisps of smoke flew into the air like streamers on a birthday. Or Halloween. Children in costumes tried to watch from behind their parents, pushing forwards while the middle-aged women pushed back. Whispers broke out over the blaze. The flames didn't spread, but seemed to stay. A dog that would obey a command. One that seemed to draw the light towards its purple hue. The blackness only darkened.

People stayed that way for a while. It didn't matter, they would all forget about that night anyways. Might as well enjoy the carnage while it lasts; human nature permits it. Subconsciously the people knew it, even though there was no possible way for them to know. They just felt it, like latent instincts rising above the human flesh. Above the human brain. Above the human soul.

A light flashed through the eternity. It settled in the form of a man with black hair and a grisly beard. He was an oaf of a man who looked to be unable to fit through a simple doorway. But, he would manage. Somehow, he would managed. Maybe some of my power at work. I lost track of where I put all of it.

He was wearing an expensive brown wool coat. Textures danced on the rough fuzz that fell off of it. His face was large, but not chubby. He had a stern look to him, like he was on a mission. The coat continued down to brown slacks, of the same dark brown variety. The black hair zapped out backwards in a messy hairstyle. The same would be said about his beard.

He was half-giant. We'll learn more about that later. The baby was of more importance.

Our resident half-giant, Rubeus Hagrid, and several other oddly dressed folk in robes and cloaks that one would see in movies about magic, strolled through the gathered fans towards the house. Hagrid hit more than a few people trying to nudge through the gaps between spectators. You could almost hear the announcers calling "And another one bites the dust!"

Nobody seemed to notice, though. They all stared, mesmerized by nothing. They weren't seeing anymore, only looking with empty eyes. They lost any knowledge of everything pertaining to the fire. Jack Michaels, Andy Stoner, and Fredrick decanter, three children still in costumes for that night's festivities, would only remember a palette of black with a smudge of red oily paint on the dark canvass backdrop. Like dreaming of a painter, painting a portrait of an ambiguous scene that others just walk by without the slightest thought. They remembered more than most.

One old man out walking his dog, who had dragged the man to the fire, had a brain ulcer and died that night, one of the now three casualties of Halloween 1984.

Hagrid lumbered into the smoke. It wasn't long before the dust obscured the man from sight. Brown and grey ash fell over his invisible frame. The fire had miraculously died down seconds before, and the people watching had returned home on an order given by an old man with pristine white features that looked to have never met dirt. Smoldering reddish black, the shade of the sky, cinders were all that remained of the construct. It smelled of burning wood. Oak flavored. With some cedar sprinkles mixed in. Yes, it all smelled like smoke, but you have to notice the subtle differences. Those are the differences that may save your life someday.

Hagrid hauled two bodies out of the residue, slung over his shoulder like a sack of death. They sure looked dead- they didn't open their eyes, they didn't move; they were as good as the dead. But, to the careful observer (differences can prove life, not just the absence of it) there was a slight rise and fall in the chest. It was miniscule, but it was still there. One male, the other female, alternating breaths like they were one and the same. Breathing out of both mouths. One breathes in, the other breathes out. Synchronized.

Two children came out, next. Both balancing on the large man's arms. One slept peacefully, while the other sat awake with bright green eyes open; watching.

Wait a second! The other one just opened its eyes also! And it… started to cry? It wailed and screamed and dribbled. Let's call the first baby Brendon Potter (the one that started to scream) and the second one Harry Potter (The one with the unnaturally green eyes).

Some observations of the twins at first glance:

Brendon:

Had black hair that shined red in sunlight; curious indeed

Brown eyes that stared blankly ahead

Was chubby. Even more so than usual children his age.

Had a small cut above his right eye in shape of a lightning bolt.

And had an incredibly large mouth, if the screaming was anything to go by.

Harry:

Had silver hair that was unnaturally long

Was extraordinarily tall and thin

Did not move

Did not speak

(You would almost think he's dead if you didn't know any better)

And he had those green eyes that stared out like a hellish abyss that would bring an onlooker to the brink of insanity. They calculated and processed. They knew. They were. They had an ancient feeling that drew fear from everything. A darkness that transcended anything else. The thing was, they weren't like that before this day.


	3. prologue: Red Eyes in the Night

**Prologue: Red Eyes in the Night**

Albus Perevell Wolfric etc. etc. Dumbledor sat at a round steel table. It was stained with red rust, blood dyed from ages past. A forest candle burned evergreen incense, covering up the rot and darkness in the corners. It did practically nothing for the taint of darkness. People gathered around. Two babies lay on the table.

Now, the room wasn't supposed to be dark, but ever since the two not-so-newborns moved in, an unnatural darkness settled in as a guest. Unwelcome, but there. And Albus was worried. He feared. Something happened that night a week ago. Something changed.

That much was obvious. They knew that mass murderer was going to attack someday, to try to circumvent the prophecy and stop it before it could come full circle and ended up dying.

Fighting a one-year-old.

That must be embarrassing.

But something else happened. Not only did the killing curse backfire and kill the caster, but while one twin had a scar from it in the form of a lightning bolt, which happens to be harboring dark magic, the other had gained some interesting new looks. Dangerous new looks. That didn't bode well at all. And with the darkness that follows the boy, it was pointing to the child having an abnormal affinity to true dark magic. We know what his thoughts were: this child needed to be put down before hell was unleashed.

Everybody was inclined to believe the white wizard. He was correct with every prediction he had so far, so he would be correct in his latest assumption. And, for all we know, he actually was correct. In fact, I'll go ahead and confirm his thoughts. But, what he didn't know, was that Harry Potter had just as much light as he did darkness. It was some sort of paradox that didn't have to make sense. The important thing was that the rest of the party agreed that Harry needed to face death at an early age. Even the parents, now awake, agreed. Though begrudgingly.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light. Blinding white with a black center. The non-colors swirled in a whirlpool of impossibility. It showed the depths of madness, and the reaches of serenity. After all, those two go hand in hand. They're practically married. The explosion didn't make it out of the room. It covered the entirety of the room, but nothing outside. Some covered their eyes. The rest of them were not so lucky. All that was left of any of them was, coincidentally, their eyes.

As Alister Moody might say: "There is dark magic afoot."

Time and space aren't malleable at all. They are solid, so to break through them is like breaking through a wall. A diamond wall with reinforced steed siding and bullet proof interior. And all you have is your hands.

Good luck.

But, this time there is a special case. It's not every day that a baby has eyes so powerful that they can shred spacetime and needs to use them. And then he also inherited the ability to make portals that break through the natural boundaries surrounding single planar space. Add that together and you have an overpowerful child who can jump to another plain of existence.

And that's what he did, when he realized his life was in danger. With his recently acquired power, he was able to analyze the intentions of every human standing in the circle around him and find solutions to the problem of him dying. He also, by accident, brought his brother with him. But only because they were so close together.

And they both woke up in a basket in front of a house labeled number four Privet Drive.

One had begun to cry and scream in his usual way. More so than necessary, really. Quite the mouth. A Hagrid was situated next to them ringing a bronze doorbell. The screech from the resulting sound whipping the man's back. He waited. One minute. Two. When nobody answered, he began to knock a brass door knocker. A horseshoe shaped one, pained gold and smelled like the hundreds of people that have been forced to use it. Shadows spread around them, illuminating the door and making it glow in a dark light. Hagrid didn't seem to notice. The night was frozen like winter, but the weatherman didn't predict snow. It was little after Halloween, anyways. The feeling was still there. That feeling that something was wrong. You left your stove on or your refrigerator was running in a more literal sense.

And then when the door opened, the darkness retreated and took up residence behind the trash and lawn ornaments. The warm air of a working heater yelled at the cold to go away, but didn't invite the outsiders in, either. Hagrid stayed. Brendon screamed. Harry stared. Vernon glared.

Vernon, the man wearing a sweat stained collared shirt. A red one, with white striped roadways of lines running over its entirety. His pungent face staring on in annoyance, he narrowed his beady brown eyes at his uninvited guests. The fat on his cheeks sloshed with the small movement, and gathered beads of sweat from the sudden coolness. Newly ironed jeans matted his legs. He was holding a fork.

Behind the grotesque smell of perspiration wafted roasted ham and garlic. The warmth was finally receding. A battle of temperature took place before the overwhelming frost took over. The giant man in front of them shivered, but other than that stood stock still. The darkness writhed and groaned, and gathered around the crib, drawing the large man's attention to the basket with two lives. A realization struck.

The two babies were James' and Lily's children.

They were probably magical

He did not want them.

These were the thoughts of Vernon at that exact point in time. So, before anything happened, Vernon slammed the plain door shut. The little surviving heat cut off suddenly without any way to excape. Locked in as a prisoner to pleasure the humans living inside. The hiding darkness came back full force.

Only this time, the darkness was coming out of two red and black eyes. Hagrid felt prompted to smash the door open and with an unknown anger, he charged the door. Hitting it with his shoulder, it splintered. Toothpicks fell out. The solid was split an uncountable number of times and left to turn into woodwork. Like broken glass. Hagrid entered the doorless entryway.

He strutted down the hall. Next to him, red eyes with a black comma rotating in them turned an unnatural green. Paintings passed on the left, overtop of whitewashed walls. Three doors. On the right, a closet door looked out from underneath a set of stairs, the wall made up of brown wood tiles. At the far end of the hall, Hagrid's destination, was an opening to a white room. Crying that was not Brendon could be heard from that room. Hagrid sped up.

Coming inside, Hagrid came face-to-face with two holes connected to silver cylinders. The markings of a double-barreled shotgun. I don't think he expected that, did he? Whether he expected it or not, he still grabbed it with calloused hands and bent it upwards. Now, this is an amazing feat simply because:

He is half giant, so one would expect the person on the other end to simply fall.

The gun was armed, so it was supposed to blow up. Amazing it didn't. Like magic, eh?

And Vernon, our not 'he' wasn't the one holding the gun, but surprisingly it was our resident Petunia. He woman with the horse shaped face and more wrinkles than your grandmother.

Makes you wonder how much like Lily Petunia was. Maybe she had some latent magic that nobody knows about?

Either way, an argument was bound to break out over the stovetop.

Hagrid initiated it. "You here will be taking 'lil Harry. I don' care if you hate 'em or what, but if I hear anythin' bad happ'nen to him, then I'll come back straight 'way to deal with it. You got it?"

"There will be no freaks in this house, dammit! Get out! I will not let those 'things'' corrupt my son!" Vernon countered. Some counter.

"I'm warnin' ya'!" He took out an umbrella and threatened them with it.

"Vernon, please. I don't want anything bad to happen to anybody. Just take the boy." Again, this was surprisingly Petunia.

Let's have a little look into the mind of Petunia.

She doesn't actually hold a grudge with her sister anymore. She simply goes along with anything Vernon says. She tried to explain magical people, but Vernon wouldn't accept it when he met Lily, and Petunia just went with it as she always does. She dearly wants to adopt her nephew, not out of love, but out of necessity to make up for her sins, and that's why she is actually putting her opinion into something for once.

And Vernon, well, he just doesn't like change and has a deep sense of paranoia. He thinks that magical people would turn on everybody else and take over the world. He also thinks that the government has tapped the phone lines and has hidden cameras around the house.

"No! I will not let a freak into this house!"

"Vernon. Just listen. If we don't, think about what they may do to us." Petunia.

Hagrid watched the exchange with some interest.

"I will NOT-" He stopped mid-sentence before continuing. "Fine. I'll take the children in if you" he pointed to Hagrid "and your people never come into this house again."

Petunia looked worried at Vernon's sudden change in demeanor. Hagrid simply looked relieved. Hagrid spoke next, once again.

"Only one. Only 'Arry. Dumbledor has to train Brendon, and 'Arry won' be safe if they're together."

Vernon was fine with that. Harry, with his manipulating red eyes, was fine with that, even as his eyes once again turned a haunting green. Brendon, well, he was fine with anything at this point. He didn't have that much thought at that point.

With that, Hagrid turned and left with his long shaggy hair and beard, leaving behind Petunia, her pink and white flowered apron, and Vernon with their food.

Vernon, throughout Hagrid's leaving, was wondering what had come over him. He just felt like it was right to accept the child into the house. He was compelled. It felt like his entire sense of self was crushed for a moment and he was forced to spew the words he did. He even believed the words, and still did even though he knew he should not. It was wrong in many ways, and it came from that _Thing_. That was the last straw. Screw being nice, he was going to make that thing pay. He was going to-!

He was going to obey his master's every whim.

He would be a good servant.

Because if he wasn't, what use would he be for?

After all, he was raised by his parents to obey his master when his master came into existence, and now his master was in front of him. He knew something was wrong with what he remembered, but he couldn't seem to care about it at all.

As for Harry, his eyes were glowing a blood red once again. One comma spinning in each eye, slowly and languidly. His will was to be obeyed. He could tell the large man's intentions even if he couldn't understand their language. He was learning quick, though, through reading lips and putting sounds and intentions to them. He had flashes of memory every once in a while, but couldn't put anything together. They were giving him knowledge, though, and showing him the power of knowing.

And that's the power of just one comma. What would happen if he achieved more?


	4. prologue: A Key to Unlock the Door

**Prologue: A Key to Unlock the Door.**

A few days passed, and Petunia was incredibly unnerved by the silver haired anomaly and her husband. Her husband was acting unusually kind towards the boy. While she was happy that she could take care of her sister's son, something seriously wasn't right. She would have to wait and watch.

Several weeks later, the boy began to speak. It was about the right time, maybe a little early. Things were still the same. Vernon was a little too happy, though. She tried to talk to the man, but he just replied "The boy's not as much trouble as I thought." She spoke to him again, but the man just said the same thing.

A couple years passed, and the boy started to disappear for many hours at a time. He never cried, he never complained, and he rarely said anything. Petunia and Vernon's son, Dudly, who had gained Vernon's stature, was being influenced by the pudgy man to respect and obey Harry. Petunia was still clueless. She noticed things were odd, but she was happy and quickly got used to the change in behavior. She was content.

Harry, on the other hand, was making sense of his dreams. He was now five. It started as flashes and turned into dreams. Soon it became memories that he never had. He knew theory of many things, and knew things he should not. Every day, he practiced. He made sense out of what he knew and used it to his ability. And he learned something out of all this.

He was a reincarnation.

Now, while this has been heard of, even if only in myths and legend. Nothing had been recorded, so it was all, again, theory and assumptions. And many people don't believe in this stuff.

Something with him was different. He was not just one reincarnation, but if his multiple sets of memories are anything to go by, he was the combined reincarnation of four people. Here's another thing for you to know.

Each person was from another plain of existence.

Now, this doesn't make him uber powerful. Well, I guess it does, actually. He can do things others only dream of, and has a fair quantity of power made up of several different energies. But he didn't have THAT much power or strength or speed. He only had theory and knowledge of what to do to get stronger. So, here he was, getting stronger in many ways so that he wouldn't be oppressed in any way. He had a need for power and knowledge. And he would fulfill those needs.

With that declaration, his eyes itched and changed. He didn't know that they changed, but they did. He developed a second comma in his left eye. He had already figured out what each eye did. He knew every Uchiha had unique eyes, some more powerful than others.

His right eye:

It symbolizes the power of day. Unlike other Uchihas who's eyes are filled with darkness, he has the powers of light, letting him not just create illusions, but make illusions real. At least that's what he can do now on a small scale with one comma. Only making pencils and stuff. Nothing that's alive, either.

His left eye:

It symbolizes the power of desire and control. With one comma, he can rewrite people's memories to make them believe anything. He can also crush weak people's will and take direct control of them. It also makes powerful illusions that help fuel his right eye. Now, even though he doesn't know it yet, with the second comma that he achieved from his intense desire and lust for knowledge and power, he can crush peoples' minds from eye contact and gained unparalleled control over his own mind.

What powerful eyes, no? And he knows it, too.

His Uchiha blood gave him the potential to work up insane power and speed, so he spent a lot of time working on those talents. Unlike here, where people have severe limits on their physical potential, Harry will surpass all their bounds. He had Madara Uchiha's memories, and knew how to unlock all of the sharingan stages. He'll have to kill his best friend at some point. That was… Petunia? Then, he'll infuse those eyes with enough energy to evolve them again into the eternal version, and finally the rinnegan. The other people's memories were, unfortunately still only flashes and dreams.

Today, that is about to change, in the form of a black heart of darkness.

And a key to unlock the door to potential.

Harry was walking through the forests to his training spot, about 6 miles away from the small town his 'family' lives in. I don't understand humans. They like everything to be perfect. They want what they can't have. They go and make all of the houses the same, and the only things that are different are the numbers. I think they also like to laugh at the other humans that get lost in the nearly identical houses. Weird.

So, Harry was running at a formidable pace out to his clearing. He passed the darkening trees and roots, avoiding the wildlife. There was one particularly large tree that he passed that he decided to practice his wind manipulation on and sliced through it. He also sliced through the four trees behind it.

He would have to get better at controlling his immense power.

It was a few minutes later that he appeared at the edge of his clearing. And what a clearing it was. You could barely see to the other side of it, and the beauty was profound. It was disgustingly perfect in a very close sense of the word. White flowers spread out over the expanse, with yellow ones mixed interchangeably. The sun peered over the trees like a hateful scion. Harry had no problem with light, but he hated the beauty of the scene. It was so idealistic. He wasn't an idealist. He hated idealists.

He walked out to the field, slowly. Why was he getting so worked up now? He saw a flash. Memories. He glimpsed darkness. Eternal darkness. The abyss. He saw a laboratory and several machines. A blond haired man was working. The letters DTD were scrawled on several papers. Darkness. It was all about darkness.

And hearts.

Flash. Another scene. Overpowering darkness. He couldn't control it all. It was eating away at him.

"No!" he heard himself scream. It was painful. "NO! I can't let it control me!"

And it was over. Another memory. He saw three people fighting him. No, not him. A puppet controlled by his essence. A black key. It made more darkness. It opened hearts, and released people's misery.

What was happening again? When did the next memory start and the last one end? It was all blurring together. Who was he? Where was he? He was losing his sense of self. He was destroying himself from the inside. The darkness was consuming him. But it wasn't.

He ended up staring at a door. A white door surrounded by black. A word popped into his mind. 'Kingdom Hearts.' It opened. Light came out.

And it burned. It was like falling into the sun. He screamed. He tried to shield himself, but nothing worked.

_Make it stop_

_MAKE IT STOP!_

"MAKE IT STOP!"

And he was back in the clearing. He survived. He was himself. He was everything he wanted to be, and if the price of his power was his sanity, then he didn't want it. But he was sane; at least mostly. His eyes itched again for some reason again. He'd have to check it out. He didn't want to kill for the fun of it. He would put people out of their misery and stop the evil from growing. He would stop suffering. People were innately evil, and he planned to rectify that. He saw the world from many perspectives, and knew the evil that everybody holds.

The only way to stop it was to rule this god-forsaken planet and stop that suffering himself. He would release the misery that all evil holds. With this new power, he would turn his enemies' hearts to darkness therefore destroying their misery forever. Heartless don't have misery because they're made of it. Their strength draws on the misery they had experienced in life. They can't be miserable. They can't be evil. They just are.

But, right now, he had bigger problems. Like the enormous black fire that took up the entirety of the field. There was a black cloud overshadowing the world. Screams filled the air.

Harry Potter just brought the heartless this dimension.


	5. Prologue: An Impure World of Purity

**Prologue: An Impure World of Purity.**

The rest of that year was spent remembering his life as Xehenort. And what a life that was. Filled with ambition and darkness and destruction and more darkness. Did I mention darkness?

Harry also noticed the difference in his eyes and began to experiment with those. His new right eye comma let him bring life to inanimate objects. To give them light in their darkness. He could also make anybody believe anything he says, until they find something that makes them doubt. It also only works on people that trust him, but it takes so little power compared to his past rewriting power. THAT takes a lot of power.

After he finished reviewing his new reincarnate's memories and trying out some cool tricks, he began training with the heartless he had under his control. The next two years was rewarded with many new skills that he invented, and another comma for his right eye.

A fact about how he got it:

He fell into a volcano on one of his personal field trips and was saved from being boiled by an unknown force. (One of his new abilities made him fireproof, but he didn't want to try it out).

Oh, and let's not forget the heartless.

People were dying from random heartless attacks and many were afraid to go outside after dark. They lived in fear. The magical folk began to develop spells to combat them and were met with success. They now had four holy spells that were taught to anybody with a powerful position so they could defend themselves and others. And the heartless had a particular liking with Albus Dumbledor.

"Holy Shit! Not again! Every time I step outside the protective wards these damn things appear! Fuck!" And Albus turned and ran back inside. Screw the spells, there were too many of the damn things out there.

The other people had a better time with the things. The heartless didn't come out very often when other magicals went outside.

Albus Dumbledor was truly a leader of the light. Even if he was a cruel manipulative bastard. He only wants the best outcome. If that meant killing a child, then so be it.

Back with Harry. It was the end of winter. Plants were beginning to break out of their shells of death. They were coming alive. Warmth permeated the air. The great yellow hole in the sky was being drilled in earlier each passing day. It symbolized rebirth. It was relaxing, and about the only idealistic thing Harry liked. So he slept in the middle of the dirt clearing that was once a beautiful white and red valley. Now it was a brown one.

Harry was seven. He was powerful, definitely the most powerful person on this planet, if not the universe. Or multiverse; do you believe that? Eh, it didn't matter here. What mattered was that Harry was about to unlock another aspect of his power. And it will be unlocked in the most interesting of ways.

Now, there's a little something called Edo Tensei…

A coffin rose from the ground in the middle of the desert. There was an army standing, watching with rapt attention. They couldn't do anything, because they were worn out from the previous fights. The only one with much energy left was a redhead that went by the name of…

Gaara.

Now, some of you might recognize this name from the news, or a television show, or whatever depending on your dimension. Where he is now, he is known by a strange word.

Kazekage. (It would have been deranged, but some idiot named Naruto changed that).

Gaara was fidgeting a bit in agitation. The sand twitched with him, a gift from his mother. He didn't know what to expect from the coffin, but as everybody knows, whatever comes out of a coffin has to be bad news. What was it going to be? A kage? A loved one? What was it, Gaara was wondering as his battle robes billowed in the breeze. The coffin opened.

…A kid?

The kid came blasting out and blew up a quarter of the army.

…A powerful kid?

A voice spoke. "Okay, who the HELL woke me up!"

As you can imagine, despite the circumstances, everybody had an oversized bead of sweat falling from their heads.

Kabuto was cursing because something was obviously wrong with the technique. Madara was supposed to be the one coming out of the coffin! Not some kid that was obviously more… powerful…than… yeah. Nevermind, this is perfect.

Harry stood in front of everybody, in extreme agitation, because he doesn't get angry. He gets annoyed and pissed off, but never angry. And he's too young for the more explicit words, so he sticks to hell. He'll wait a few more years before changing to some stronger words.

He's fine with using 'hell' and 'damn' for now.

Really! He is!

I think…

So Harry stood in the open desert, in front of a whole lot of shinobi. Every shinobi looked at him as if he was crazy, and more than a few were wondering just who the hell he was.

"So, where am I?"

Every ninja fell.

This got Harry thinking. There was only one place that he could think of that had armies of ninja and had the ninja sweatdrop, as his memories told him it was called, and fell over when something completely unexpected happened. Some ninja they were.

He was in the Elemental Countries. How he got there was anybodies' guess, but he was there. And he wanted to get back home so he can finish his nap! Not a crappy desert. Who wants to be in a desert anyway?

Gaara suddenly gained a tick mark and yelled "Someone's gonna pay for insulting my sand!"

Everybody looked at Gaara.

"…" The glare was enough to force everybody to look away.

"Yep, definitely the Elemental Countries."

Gaara stepped over, completely on guard. He asked the first question. Well, second, but the first went unanswered.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Harry Potter. What's yours?"

Murmuring swept through the crowd gathered. Gaara kept a schooled expression, even though Harry's great eyes could see the slight relaxing of the jaw and eyelids rising. Then a twitch came to his eyebrow.

"Have you been living under a rock your entire life?" Gaara said in a uncharacteristic exasperation. Who did this moron think he is?

"No."

"And what kind of name is Harry?" A man with a bandana hanging around his neck asked. Chuiziro Entape.

"It's my name. Live with it. Now, how do I get out of here?"

Gaara was next. "Why aren't you attacking us after that first strike? You don't sound like you want to fight, but you were summoned by edo tensei."

"No clue. I just want to sleep. Get back to where I'm from."

"You mean you're not dead?"

"No… I'm not."

"Then how…"

"I don't know."

Kabuto cursed, again. The zombie wasn't obeying him! What was wrong? It didn't matter. What mattered was that now he didn't have any way to use Madara or Hashirama to fight. This was a big setback. He would have to go and fight, himself. He could do it, but that would require revealing his secret weapon.

But that's not the point. The point is to win. So, he got up and left, just as two Uchihas blasted into the clearing.

"Damn. Missed him," Sasuke mumbled.

"This is unexpected." Itachi. Who else? He turned to leave.

"Wait! You said you'd talk to me and tell me everything!"

"That is inconsequential," Itachi said before leaving with a Sasuke running behind him. They went the wrong way.

Harry and Gaara were talking. Well, Gaara was talking while Harry was sleeping. And by Gaara talking, we mean to say that Gaara's right hand man was making small talk, completely oblivious to everything else. Gaara doesn't talk unless it's important. He gets everything else across by screaming about blood. Here's a snippet of conversation.

Gaara: "I want your blood, Potter!"

Harry: "Yeah, I know. Isn't it funny?"

Gaara: "Give me more blood!"

Harry: "Really? You think I would look good in less blue and more red?"

Gaara: "Blood… with a side of brains."

Harry: "Don't you be talkin' 'bout my great great great grandma that way!"

You see, sometimes it's hard to tell Gaara apart from a zombie, only Gaara can get his point across. It's amazing that people don't even notice him talking about blood. I mean, listen to his inspirational speech that he gave to get the army in a patriotic mood.

"Blood and guts, I demand it! Give me your entrails to smear on the wall and appease my mother. Mother demands your blood, peasants. She will have it! I need more blood. No, mother. Don't hurt me. I'll be a good boy. I'll give you more blood. I'll give you sacrifices, even." Etc. etc.

I don't know how people think he's cured of his insanity. It's like they hear an entirely different thing.

Several minutes later.

Harry was hit in the side of the head with extreme prejudice. He didn't even know what had hit him until he looked up. Nobody saw anything until he had been hit since all attention was on him. Nobody heard anything passed the noise of the crowd. Nobody had expected anything to happen in the middle of an army.

And because of that, Harry was going to pay.

Harry flew through the air, a slight spin in his trajectory, and his back in a slight arch from the pain that had just been inflicted upon him. Seconds later he impacted one of the many stone columns around him, leveling it. Slowly, he got up, but before he could get his footing, a knee forced him off his footing, and a heel connected with his head smashing him into the ground making a crater.

Good thing he was trained to take a good amount of pain.

Yes, the consequence of inattentiveness is incredible pain and agony, no matter how powerful you are. Unless you can sense things coming, there is nothing you can do to counter what you can't see. I'll try to remind him next time to have a perimeter of heartless so he can be warned.

Harry got up quicker that time, and caught sight of a silver haired man who found himself suddenly distracted by the veritable army coming at him from all sides. He didn't have much trouble dispatching them with speedy succession.

Goodbye life.

Harry stood, slightly dazed, and was ready about the same time Kabuto finished the rest of the army off. It was only Gaara and himself left.

Gaara started by throwing sand at Kabuto, who defended with just as many snakes and pushed Gaara back. Harry took that chance to jump behind Kabuto while he was distracted to get a strike, but another snake was able to defend and push Harry back. Harry and Gaara were on both sides of Kabuto, ready for anything. Kabuto had a grin.

"Is this all the power a kage has? I'm disappointed. I was expecting more."

Nobody answered. Harry's eyes became sharinganated. Kabuto refused to make eye contact. Smart move.

While Gaara began to attack with sand again, Harry summoned his key to the dark, or whatever you want to call it. It is a key, and it is made of darkness, so the name fits. Kabuto looked intrigued by the weapon, but turned his attention back to the sand just fast enough to dodge a sand tsunami. Harry went in and attacked with his blade.

The snake that attacked Harry on his way was stabbed by the key. The snake vanished to the darkness. Harry continued along his path, taking out more snakes as he ran, closing in on Kabuto. Kabuto looked worried for a second before getting a smirk. Just as Harry stabbed towards him, Kabuto became a large snake, dodging out of the way. The disturbing thing about this was the fact that a hand came out of the snake's mouth, followed by the rest of the body of Kabuto. The snake disappeared.

Harry cursed.

Gaara looked… like Gaara.

Kabuto had a maniacal gleam in his crazed eyes. He spoke.

"Do you know what the snake descends from? No? Well, it descends from," here he turns into what could only be described as a snake with horns and a slightly humanoid appearance, "the dragons. I'll show you the true power of the snake. I'll show you the power of knowledge!"

And he did. He moved faster, and hit harder. Gaara was knocked back in a single hit, and saved only by his sand. Harry moved forwards to attack again, but in Gaara's blindness, the sand came up around Harry and hit him back. Harry was trapped in sand with no way out. He didn't even get to try any real techniques and he was already incapacitated. Well, he was only seven, so it made sense.

Kabuto kicked Gaara unconscious and turned to Harry. "and here I thought you were more powerful than Madara. I guess I was wrong. Now, I'm going to kill you slowly."

A sword appeared and Kabuto took hold and stabbed Harry. Immediately Harry's blood began to feel like acid.

"This sword, kusanagi, hold an extremely powerful poison that starts by paralyzing the target and painfully, slowly, tears them apart. There is no antidote known. Enjoy your last few minutes on this earth."

Now, some of you may be wondering, how does Kabuto know that Harry's alive. Well, when Kabuto first hit Harry, it was only a test to see if the summoned person had a heartbeat. And since he did, he was obviously alive and could be killed.

By now, Harry was beginning to lose consciousness, but something in the poison was keeping him awake. He couldn't die. He tried with all his might to get free, but couldn't even open his mouth. He still tried. He wouldn't die without a fight. He couldn't die in such a pathetic way. He had to fix the corruption of his planet. He had to WIN!

But he couldn't move.

_Please don't die._ He thought to himself. He would have said it, but he couldn't move.

He kept repeating the mantra in his head until he was screaming it into a splitting headache. His desire to live was insane. It was unstoppable. It was incomprehensible. There was still so much to learn, and so much to do. He had a world to save! How could he fall into such a position?

His eyes were blurry at this point. Kabuto had turned away and was making his way to Gaara to finish off. Gaara was still as a dead body ready to be buried in the grave. Harry had one foot in the grave. Or two legs and half a body if you want to be literal.

Harry couldn't see anymore. He barely had any energy to think. But he kept up with it. His left eye itched and began to burn even more. His intense desire to live pushing the boundaries and giving the third comma of desire. This let him rewrite memories on anything and make those memories a reality by tricking reality itself into believing that what happened was true.

But that couldn't help him here. He was too weak to do anything. He could just sit there and wait for the end. For oblivion.

Goodbye cruel world.

I'll miss you.

Though it was nice to be alive,

With the beautiful people everywhere.

Isn't it strange how one's life can change completely when they're about to die? They begin to think in sequences and lines instead of paragraphs? This time there will be no life flashing before eyes. There is no room for that here. There is no need, and no push to force that. In all reality, Harry Potter had no life to begin with. He was just continuing other people's lives. It is a sad though, when one cannot even begin to comprehend their own life and have to resort to what they know instead of what they feel.

In the fabric of reality, one thread came loose and everything began to unwind.

The end is coming. Will oblivion and chaos rule? Or humans? Is there a difference?

Harry Potter can be the only one to decide.


	6. Prologue: A Warrior of Light

**Prologue: A Warrior of Light**

What is power? Is it an illusion or is it reality? Reality is everything and illusion is nothing, but what happens if both are put together? Is there such a thing as a middle road in anything? Does this prove that power is everything, or that power comes in a different form? It is true that one can achieve power through will, but that is not where power comes from. Will only supplies and gives. Power is its own entity. I would know. And don't worry, Harry survives.

He survives through a combination of willpower and just the right circumstances of the path of death.

But, I think we should check up on Harry's brother, Brendon, and his nice teacher Dumbledor. And everybody else that matters in some little way or another. Let's introduce some more reincarnations to stir things up a bit.

A group of people sat around an alter. They, on average, had an obvious age of 12 to 40 years old, and they all wore cloaks. The interesting thing about these cloaks are the red clouds glued onto the black fabric. They stood in the blackness of the room on a rocky floor. They were discussing plans to achieve world peace. The leader stood at the forefront of the rag-tag group.

"We will begin by destroying the heartless that plague this world. It is my belief that something is drawing them to this world. I am compelled to think it is the corruption of the world's governments, though I may be wrong. We are not strong enough to fight back yet, but the time will come. I leave you with a message that was given to me through a dream. 'Find the keybearer'." The leader looked over the people with his red eyes, a single comma rotating around the left and two around the right.

A note about Negato:

The rinnegan is achieved through the repenting of sins once you have committed them to get the eternal Mangekyou. He hasn't done that, nor has done many sins period or suffered a sufficient amount of trauma. Also, none of the characters in this circle have gained any worthwhile memories from their past selves, so the formation of this group was entirely on instinct on Negato, or in this case, Arthur Weasley's part.

His eyes' powers aren't as great as Harry's, but they're formidable in their own right. The reason that he doesn't have any more commas in his eyes goes back to the fact that he hasn't had that much horror in his life. His right eye holds the power of loss (Which would be the most powerful sharingan ability if evolved to mangekyou, but weak in the pre-mangekyou state) Which he gained the second comma through the death of his parents.

These let him create mediocre illusions making others witness the deaths of their loved ones, as well as have very limited precognitive powers to predict the date of a person's death, whether physical, mental, or emotional, it is very obscure and not so accurate. It also forces him to endure some minor misery every time he meets a new person.

His left eye is more powerful, though, and with one comma, can force people into uncontrollable rages. It is the power of anger, and he really can't get angry at anybody or anything. Not yet, anyway.

The rest of the organization was shrouded in darkness, though one could almost feel that they weren't just the reincarnations of Akatsuki.

And all of the reincarnations were caused by the time-space-reality manipulation of one Harry Potter.

An extra note: Some people didn't become reincarnations until after Harry appeared. Not everything makes sense.

Ron Weasley was part dog. No, really! He doesn't just eat like a dog, he is one! Well, a demon one, that is. He was born that way, and his mother put a glamour on him to hide the interesting characteristics so his father didn't know. Hell, he didn't even know until three years ago when he began remembering things that weren't his memories, but someone else's.

It was confusing.

And just today, he remembered everything. When he finds the reincarnation of his brother, he was going to show that mutt a piece of his mind. The bastard threw him into the ocean when he couldn't get over the girl leaving him. He got out pretty fast, but still. 2000 foot drop, it was.

That bastard will get what's coming to him.

Ron was fighting some black thing that day. Training. He needed to get strong so he can finally show up his brother. It'll happen, eventually. He did it once in his past life, but that was only because he got the drop on him and cut his arm off before he could move.

He'll get Sesshomaru. He'll get him good. He won't make himself a laughing stock like before. He won't be a failure.

But, right now he has to get stronger like he hasn't for the last seven years.

One dodge to the left and cut with some claws, and the thing's dead. But ten more shadows come to take its place.

P.S. In a letter format, I feel like telling you all that, right now only the level 1-3 shadows have come out. There are millions of them, and they go by the level format of a video game. In this game there are no caps on levels, and Dumbledor comes in at level 56. He will gain a few levels by the time Harry shows up, but Harry will get the Harry Potter version of a gameshark- the Deathly Hallows.

Here is the current level system that you will see only once more in this retelling of my experience.

Harry: level 81

Gaara: level 62

Kabuto: level 99

Dumbledor: level 56

Ron Weasley: level 9 (good luck with your revenge)

Arthur Weasley: level 48 (but quickly growing)

Hermione: level 10 (her knowledge will make her even better)

Basilisk: level 50

Voldemort: level 7, but then again, he is only a ghost.

Now, something to notice, is that levels mean nothing at all if you are surprised or find something that puts you at a disadvantage such as an indestructible shield that you can't get through. Keep that in mind.

While we leave Ron to train in peace, I think we should check up on Dumbledor and see how he's doing with our hero's training.

We can hear blasts of concrete flying out of the wall in one of the many classrooms in Hogwarts. The smell of soot assaults our senses as Brendon, our resident hero of the light, trains. Reaction training is the current regiment, as well as theory of more complicated spells.

Now, many people are probably thinking that Brendon is a cocky, arrogant, and idiotic child with a god complex. You would be partially correct. Not to drag his name through the dirt too much, we could safely assume that Brendon is not an idiot and he is cocky for a reason.

He can face a skilled seventh year and battle them to a standstill. I would estimate his power level to be about 13. I think that's pretty high considering auror level wizards and chunin level ninjas are at the power of 25 on average, with jounin and mages (mages are very few and far between. There is no rank above it in wizard society, but Albus Dumbledor would be that rank if there was one) at level 40. A kage is at level 60.

Everything that's within three levels of anything else is about the same level. Using this logic, Ron would be able to barely keep up with Brendon. The only reason Ron is this powerful at the moment is his demonic heritage. Hermione's power comes solely from knowledge and her ability to learn quickly. The reason Harry isn't so powerful despite his knowledge and training is:

He is only seven and can't truly train until about ten.

He hasn't come into any demonic heritage… yet.

He has terrible control despite being a Uchiha.

Don't worry, though, he'll work on each one of these later. Right now, we're worrying about our hero and his lord, Dumbledor.

Green and red bolts flew by him at great speed, while he danced to the sides, avoiding each curse and hex. The room was designed to negate any permanent damage, but the blasts still hurt. Badly. But, Brendon was determined to surpass every expectation like he had so far. When the time came, he would protect this world like he was meant to. And nothing would stop him.

Then there was his brother. He was brought up to believe that his brother was dealt a bad hand in life and turned out evil. Dumbledor said it, and many people believed it to be true. There wasn't any physical evidence, so the school was still open to Harry, but Dumbledor trained Brendon to one day stop the evil that was Harry Potter.

Now, Brendon didn't believe for one minute that pile of bull shit, because, for some reason, whenever he thought about his brother, the notion of peace on earth came to his mind. How could his brother be evil when the very thought of him caused the thought of peace?

This didn't mean that he hated Dumbledor, it just meant that Dumbledor had some facts mixed up. He tried to bring this up with the man once, but that didn't go over very well. It went something like:

"Why do you keep saying my brother is dark and evil?"

"Because his is. I think that he is the reason that these black things keep attacking us." Oh how right he was.

"That can't be true. Every time I think of Harry, I think of peace."

"Damn. He must somehow be corrupting you."

"What?"

"Poppy! Knock him out. We need to run tests. Don't worry, Brendon, we'll get to the bottom of this."

Needless to say, Brendon never talked about his brother again. He refused to talk about him in a negative light, and he couldn't talk about him in a positive light. So he just didn't talk about him. Brendon had no idea why Dumbledor hated Harry so much, but that wasn't important. What was important was training to protect the world.

Dumbledor had a thought cycle along the lines of 'get Harry to Dursleys, make his life hell, turn him dark, make him a warm-up for Brendon so Brendon has some experience. That will make the perfect defender of the light.'

Like I said, Dumbledor is, and will always be the most powerful of the light. He is so powerful and so much immersed in light that one day, he will get his own army of light.

But that won't happen for another two years, on the same day Brendon becomes a true warrior of the light. Until then, Dumbledor will oversee Brendon's training. He turns from his position and leaves the cobblestone floor for the moist potions room to talk to one of his most trusted subordinates. It wouldn't do to be bored, and a little small talk wouldn't hurt. Brendon kept training.

At this point in time, Hermione was just learning about her magical heritage. Her parents were accepting of it, but she had a knack for electricity. Since she was born, she had the most unnatural blond hair that she liked to put into two ponytails. It was odd, how she was so good at controlling the flow of electricity to the point of making storms. She was awful at controlling it at that point, but she could call them. But, that was all she could do. Make electricity. And had a little over-average speed and strength, but she spent more time playing with the little friends she had. She also had a recurring dream of a yellow haired woman that looked like her, only with a black coat that hung to the floor draped over her.

Weird.

It didn't matter. She would rather have fun than worry about anything like that. They were cool dreams, though.

Her only friend was a boy with red hair, just like the one in her dreams, only it was down and unspiky. She didn't know if it was possible to have spiky hair, so the dreams must be just that- dreams. But they were fun to have.

The boy's name was Anthony Oak. Interesting last name, but it worked. Kinda. He was a pyromaniac, and her parents hated him. He was several years her senior, but they got along just fine. She didn't know that he would be a very important asset in the future to Harry, and a betrayer to her; but then, who does? Betrayal runs his life. He should be able to dish it out as much as he receives it.

His father betrayed his mother, leaving him without parents. The caretaker betrayed the orphans by burning down the orphanage. Later, she would betray him. And in turn, he would betray her.

At that point, Harry gained his third comma in his left eye. And he thought it was his desire that brought about this power. No, it was because of a thought that wasn't even his. It was caused by a lack of control. A chaos, if you will. It was caused by one thought from a person directly influenced by his power. One thought.

Betrayal.


	7. Prologue: An Impure World of Purity Pt2

**Prologue: An Impure World Made Pure Pt. 2**

You see, you don't have to be in direct contact to influence something. You simply need to change the world, or reality, or whatever the hell you change, and it creates a domino effect. Harry was influenced by the simple thought that echoed from a man's head in a completely different universe. His desire simply opened the door to let the power of betrayal in. This same desire changed the poison in his body. Just as he was about to die, his mind seemed to go back in time.

To the life of one Sesshomaru Inutaisho.

The poison reacted with his will and pushed Harry into another life, which he lived and breathed from. Suddenly, he knew everything. About that particular life, I mean.

A dog of poison and acid, eh? That may prove to be useful. You can almost imagine the level meter jumping up a good thirty in a pokemon-esque style. The blue gauge just skyrocketed. Good luck, Kabuto, you're going to need it.

Harry broke through the sand with a little too much strength, and made quite the pillar to showcase his power. He made hand seals. He ended the hand seals. His black jacket with red lining and red highlights overtop of his reinforced armor and boots swooshed in the breeze. Sand and grit flew through the air from what was once a whirlwind of power.

Kabuto turned as fast as he humanly could. When he gazed upon Harry, he began to fear. He didn't know what it was, but something about the boy just instilled him with fear. Harry stalked out of the hole. Harry suddenly disappeared. The combination of a demon's speed and the shinobi's chakra pushed him to literally cut through time and allowed Harry to walk in a timeless space. A feat only accomplished by that world's Yondaime Hokage with the aid of seals and the clan bloodline of an impossibly strong body.

Soon three other people will achieve this speed, though not as natural speed like Harry's. One will achieve it through lightning, another through light, and the last through power over time itself.

Harry walked towards a motionless Kabuto, over a timeless expanse where nothing moved and all was silent. The silence was almost deafening. It was much louder than the army, much louder than the insidious Kabuto. The noise of nothing far outweighed the noise of something.

He finally called the name of his ninja technique.

And Kabuto burned. He burned and burned and burned. It was a raging inferno that acted like the one that covered his house the day he was born. Kabuto was dead, and the ninja world was doomed to forever fight the zombies of their loved ones. Harry didn't care. He just wanted to go home.

The technique he used was called

Midnight fire style: Crimson Black Cremation.

It took fire and gave it the unlimited property of darkness. As in, it doesn't stop burning until there is nothing left.

And, as if heeding his call, his sharingan activated the powers over reality and light, using one of his ocular abilities to burn existence and force his way into his own world.

A problem, though, was because of his lack of control, Gaara was taken with him.

Harry dropped back into his decrepit clearing with the redhead landing somewhat next to him, still unconscious. Harry fell unconscious, as well, from the strain of gathering new knowledge and power. He would wake up in his reletive's house with Gaara tied up and his aunt screaming at Vernon to untie the redheaded boy.

I think we should jump back to Ron and Arthur to see how he's doing.

His father was just getting home from his 'work' meeting. Arthur had deactivated his eyes a while back. He uses them to keep up appearances and help keep his true identity secret. His eyes are useful for making people exceedingly disorganized. Not very useful for manipulating anything. But, he's pretty good at fighting. The main thing he lacks is speed and strength. He never thought to ever get better at any of that, and it has stunted his growth in power and his ability to bring peace upon this planet. But, that can be fixed.

Arthur also knew that he had a strange energy somewhat like magic that he could use, as could some of the people in the organization he ran. He had the resident scientist do testing on it, while others practiced it in practical theory. So far he has discovered the ability to manipulate the elements to a very small degree, and stick to solid objects. The tests showed that the energy was made up of both physical and mental energy, like wizards used magic as a spiritual aspect. The use of magic makes wizards stronger, while exercise and knowledge made this newly dubbed 'chakra' stronger.

So, when he had free time, he practiced in a lot out in the forest next to their house unknowingly passing his son's training each day without realizing it. He knew the heartless were dangerous, but he knew the holy spells to defend against them. And chakra was surprisingly effective when used to fight. He would charge it into his muscles and punch the black things and they would disappear in about three or four hits.

And train, he did. The heartless made great targets to practice on, and there were a great many of them. While he was training, so was his son. And that fateful day, a new kind of heartless appeared when Harry passed out. You see, the darkness reacts to Harry's emotional state, health, and many more things. When he passed out, the soldier heartless made its debut. They came with their armored helmets and sharp red claws and terrible dancing. They came, and came, and came. Not as many as the shadows, but enough.

And when more heartless come, they will spread into their own sectors unless called upon by Harry.

It will also draw father and son together in a fateful dance of concealed hate and unknowing loss.

Arthur will lose a son and Ron will lose a father.

That is the difference between demons and humans.

That is what will make them the same.

Hate.

Introducing Neji Hyuuga as: American born and French raised martial artist Juan Erikson.

He is known as number 15 of the order of Akatsuki. He is 18 years old, and ever since he was 11 he learned he could do some unnatural things.

Such as see through solid objects.

He stands at a 5 foot 4 inches and has beautiful shoulder length black hair. The strangest things are his eyes. They make him look blind, but he, in fact can see perfectly.

Another thing he can do is see almost 360 degrees around and above him.

He wore the usual blue jeans and preferred white shirts to anything else. He grew up in what could be considered a loving family. But, he knew better. He sees through the facades that they put up. One is a drug dealer. The father, Eric Erikson, was the one who decided to move when the police began to monitor him. He was a known convict who got out of prison early for good behavior. He only acted nice to fool everybody. He even fooled the mother.

The mother. She was a whore. Literally. She had had 5 children before and murdered every one of them, supposedly. That's what was suspected on the police reports that he saw when she was caught after murdering the fifth. The father thought the last was only a bad birth. The others were before Juan. She was a dirty woman.

That was why Juan wanted to bring peace to the corruption of the planet. He had learned his native language in school and his parents. He ran away and learned martial arts. He competed for several years until he was 17 years old, when he was found by Arthur Weasley who unlocked the door of peace. Juan Believed that it was up to him to open the door fully. It was, after all, his fate.

Next, we have Genesis Rhapsodos as: Arthur's son, Percy Weasley.

As number 14, nobody knows who he really is. He puts in contacts to change his eye color and always wears a hood. He goes by an alias.

Genesis.

Quite the name, right?

He found his calling in swordsmanship and elemental magic. While he is in school, he reads up on complicated elemental spells to use and even acquired a large rapier that can channel magic. He feels as if he hasn't achieved his full potential, though. Like he's missing a piece of his power.

The funny part, though, is that he doesn't know that his father is the leader, and his father him, likewise. He was simply influenced by his father's sense of right and wrong when he was talking about the corrupt governments of the world. Percy took it to heart.

At the current time, he can be found researching small marbles that he found around the forests of his house. They seemed to call to him, like they need him. When he first touched them, there was a surge of power, but nothing after that. He would finally figure out the mystery of the marbles in three years when he turns 16.

Until then, he'll plan the overthrow of the world systems and get more powerful.

Number 13 is somebody who is known to be nigh immortal.

He created his own religion to follow, and claims that the religion is what makes him powerful. He proved his point by cutting his own head off and having number 11 sew it back on. He goes by the name 13, in honor of the position. He has no name other than that, to the best of his knowledge.

The religion: Jashinism.

It involves blood. A lot of it.

Arthur didn't know what to do when he first saw the man, age 24, two years before the current date of this timeline. He was standing, watching as the man now known as 13 ripped another man apart and started praying. But, when Arthur thought about it, he decided that the man with silver, ragged hair and black, thin robes, could be of some use before being disposed of if not converted to a less bloody religion.

The man didn't have a past. He was what could be considered a ghost. He didn't exist in society. Nobody knew where he came from, even himself. He promised to do whatever Arthur said as long as he was able to kill in the name of the great lord Jashin. No more convincing was needed. No money was wanted. It was that simple.

And since then, the man had somehow acquired a black scythe. He complained and whined for a week because he couldn't find a red one to symbolize blood, because Jashin was the god of blood, but it passed. "At least it wasn't white or silver" he concluded.

Number 12 was some witch that was found off the streets and happened to have several powers, but was ultimately killed in action, disobeying a direct order. The position was still open.

That's enough of the Akatsuki for now. We'll get back to them later. When they start to show up and attack. And don't worry about number 12, that position will be filled once again in a few years. I don't want to spoil everything, now, do I?

Getting back to Harry, when he woke up, yes, there was a lot of yelling. Yes, Gaara was still asleep, and yes Aunt Petunia was pissed. That woman that only cared for Harry out of recompense for her sister. Petunia didn't care for Harry in actuality. But, she had to make up to her sister. She wouldn't let herself get thrown into hell for what she did to her sister.

And then, Harry sat up in his bedroom, taking notice of two swords. They were both swords from his memories. They were both swords of incredible power, but they were somewhat different. As if his soul changed their construct, and they adapted to fit the wielder.

Interesting swords.

Tenseiga

Bakusaiga.

The sword of healing and the sword of destruction.

Harry got up and placed the swords on his side. He got out of the blue bedroom (seriously, it was almost entirely blue, and it drove Harry nuts, but he went with it. Had to show his courtesy). Stepping out into the hall, he paced down the ebony staircase, admiring once again the rich engravings on the wall he had Vernon and Dudley do. Swirls and curves in very delicate manners that it would seem the two oafs couldn't hope to do.

There was one recurring design, though. They all had the shape of his eye. His sharingan eye.

It wasn't intentional, though. It just sort of happened. It seemed, through many trials, that once somebody was affected by the sharingan, they would constantly see the eye's design everywhere they looked. And the result was the design going into whatever they did, unconsciously.

It wasn't that big of a problem, but you can never be too careful. Caution was always important. And the patterns went all the way around the house in the brush strokes of painting and even planting flowers. It all came back to that design.

Petunia thought it was an obsession. But soon she would realize that no obsession did exist. She would realize that before she forced herself to stop breathing. Then, Harry would get the eyes. Then, Harry could get some allies without worrying about any accidental relationships. Then, he could get powerful.

He made it downstairs as Vernon began to restrain Petunia. Harry walked up to her, slowly, calculating. He looked into her eyes. He said two words.

"Die…goodbye."

He said the second word almost as an afterthough. She wasn't really a friend, but she was the closest thing to one Harry had. The other two were slaves to do his bidding. He didn't go to school, because he learned everything instantly from what Petunia and Vernon told him, and from what Dudley brought home. Petunia bought it from the excuse of 'homeschooling.' He was technically in 12th grade at this point. He would forgo college to train more extensively. It would work.

Vernon let go of Petunia, and she languidly slugged herself forwards to the kitchen, finally realizing the importance of the pictures. But she couldn't do anything about it. What she was about to do felt right, even if she knew it was wrong. She picked up a knife, longer than most and relatively thin; just right for carving detailed pictures. The blade scraped against the wood as she unsheathed it from the holster. The knife drew closer to the flesh of her neck.

She drew blood. The knife dug in and she found herself at a loss of breath. She continued to cut. One curve there, and a circle here. She was trying to recreate the sharingan on her silky skin. One more curve here and the picture will be completed in its grotesque glory. And she fell, a soft image remaining incomplete.

Vernon walked over, mindlessly, and picked up the knife. He put the last mark on to complete the picture and walked away. The room was beginning to smell like iron. It would soon smell like death.

Harry burned her body before falling over as his eyes bled pain. They bled agony. They bred misery.

But most of all, they fueled desire.


	8. Prologue: Kick to the Head and Heart

**Prologue: A Kick to the Head, A Kick to the Heart.**

"So, Gaara, how do you feel?"

"My head hurts. Are you okay? My sand hit you…"

"I'm fine. You're the one that got knocked out."

"Are we alone?"

"Yes."

"Who are you, really?"

"…"

"I can't work with someone who can't tell me who they are."

"Personal experience?"

"Yes. My father…"

"I see. As you know, my name is Harry Potter."

"Yes. And my name is Gaara."

"I am a jack-of-all trades."

"I focus on using sand. But, in a desert, I am unstoppable."

"Really? Then what happened back there when you were knocked out?"

"You were there."

"…"

"So, what are your likes?"

"My what?"

"What do you like to do? An old friend taught me to introduce myself this way."

"Was your friend socially inept?"

"…Yes…"

"On your line of introduction, I must say that my likes are few and far between, but I'm starting to like you without all of your insanity."

"Yes. Thank you for whatever you did. Now you say your dislikes if we were to follow my friend's advice."

"May I ask who your friend is?"

"Uzumaki. He was an interesting person. He stopped me from killing people to prove my existence. He was my first friend."

"You need better friends."

"I know. But he is likeable."

"I see. Well, I dislike corruption, and idealists. And human life in general."

"Doesn't everybody."

"No. In fact, most people love it if you're rich."

"That's not the point. Next is hobbies."

"I train."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

"I lead a village."

"Led."

"What?"

"I said led. We have traveled existence to another universe that doesn't even coincide with yours."

"Is there any way back."

"I don't know. Probably."

"Then take me back."

"No."

"I said TAKE ME BACK!"

"Get your hands off of me, Gaara. I'll take you back later."

"TAKE ME BACK NOW!"

"Later. But I don't know if you even want to go back. The place is now overrun with zombies and your people are dying by the dozens."

"What are you talking about? Our people will take out Kabuto and the zombies will die."

"No. Kabuto is dead and the technique will never cancel."

"No… I don't believe it."

"You better believe it. It's happening."

"DAMN IT!"

"…" Harry stood silently while Gaara began to cry. Yes, he cried. His sadness transcended time, for his mother, his friends, his people. They were all going to die, and he would live only because of circumstances. Eventually, the screaming and cursing stopped, but the tears did not.

"Fine. I'll stay. I'll work with you, because you saved me. I owe you that much."

They sat there for a while longer. Gaara spoke once more.

"So, can you please untie me?"

Arthur Weasley walked back through the foliage. He was tired, he was hungry, he was ready to sleep. At the same time, Ron, with his unnatural silver hair, was just finishing up his exercise. They just happened to come across each other in the field as Arthur passed through deciding to go the long way around.

And Ron didn't have his glamour on to conceal his ears, eyes, teeth, and claws.

Arthur stopped dead. The beauty and serenity were almost too great for such a terrible showing. Such a terrible meeting. It was inhumane for whatever god decided to chance the meeting at that spot. Absurd, even. Juan would call it fate. 13 would call it Jashin. 11 wouldn't care unless he got money out of it.

The scenery:

There were yellow flowers everywhere.

Some were dyed red with blood from fighting, making it exotic instead of cruel.

The red sunset was gloating at them. Trying to make them snap from the irony.

It worked.

"Oh my god…"

"Dad. This isn't what it looks like." His words were uncertain.

"Oh my GOD!"

"…Dad?"

"Who are you." He talked with a dangerous undertone. It was a whisper. The whisper turned into a monster. "WHERE IS MY SON!"

The anger spread like a virus. "I'm right here dad. Your son is RIGHT HERE!"

"You aren't my son. You're an abomination!" It was spoken with a certain certainty that coincided with thumb in ass syndrome.

"I am what I am. I'm still the same person."

"No son of mine is a… a demon!"

"But look at me, I'm a demon! I'm still your son!"

"demons don't belong in our world."

"What world are you talking about? Last time I checked, our world is a shit hole!"

"Leave! Go away! I won't have you defiling our house anymore!"

"What would mom say?"

"I don't know. It doesn't matter. Once I tell her about you, you'll be gone for good. I have half a mind to kill you right now, but I won't drop to that level."

"She already knows, and she accepts me. Please, dad."

"Never."

With that, he walked away. He never looked back, and he hoped he never would have to look back. The demon that was Ron broke down at that moment and wept upon the bloody flowers. The sun seemed to just laugh in its mocking glory. For Arthur, a single tear shed itself from his left eye, and another comma began to revolve. He didn't notice. He didn't notice anything. He didn't notice his entrance into his house. He only noticed when Ron entered.

Ron looked normal again. But that didn't hide what Arthur saw. Arthur was about to yell again, but stopped at the last second. He spied Molly in the room. He didn't dare challenge the thought that she would hate him for hating his son. No matter the extra features. He kept quiet. He would carry this hate until his death. No demon could ever fit into society.


	9. Prologue: A Warrior of Light pt 2

**Prologue: A Warrior of Light- Awakening and Betrayal.**

Two years have passed. It was 1992. Summer. Albus was once again training the boy who lived.

Brendon had become a match for many of the professors that worked at Hogwarts. He was well versed in all kinds of light magic. If he can't win with one kind, he has the ability to fall back on another. With this knowledge, he would pass the school curriculum with flying colors in a single year. But Brendon was asked to not show his skills at all. He couldn't give any dark lords any reason to kill him. Especially since Voldemort is predicted to rise again.

They were training when suddenly a heartless appeared. It was the first one to get through the wards. It took the form of a winged bandit, gliding in on purple wings. It, like most heartless, took on a mostly purple and black color scheme. It was the first of its type to arrive.

It glided in over the broken cobblestone tiles, cracked by spells upon spells breaking through. It would be fixed by the next day. The rocky gravel digging into the two wizards' feet as they watched the air pirate. Brendon didn't know what to do. Dumbledor did.

"Pennata Inspiratione!"

It was like a white light shooting out of the wand. It impacted the unsuspecting heartless, and the holy version of the bludgeoning hex threw it back. But, it didn't even seem winded, if a heartless could look winded in the first place. It did practically nothing. It was like tickling the thing!

Was that a laugh that it did? Was the thing laughing at Dumbledor? Nobody laughed at Dumbledor!

Dumbledor began chanting more and more of the holy bludgeoning hexes at the creature. They all did practically nothing.

A tidbit of information:

While the heartless was much weaker than Dumbledor, spells do practically no damage. The holy ones are much more effective, but still practically useless.

So, after much waiting, the heartless decided to take a turn. It swooped down and attacked, but instead of going towards Dumbledor, it went straight for Brendon. So, in one of its swift glides, it swooped down to Brendon's level and attempted to attack. Brendon, in turn, imagined himself getting skewered and dying a painful, agonizing death.

Keyword:

Imagined.

When nothing happened, Brendon opened his eyes and realized he was no longer in Hogwarts. Hell, he was no longer on the planet Earth if what he was seeing was right. He's not crazy, but when the people hear about this, they might doubt his sanity.

Ron and his father still have a bit of a mean streak going on.

Actually, that's a bit of an understatement. They absolutely despise each other. And, while they tolerate each other and put up a charade when around other company, Molly and Ginny have noticed some odd glances going on between them. They seemed a bit… angry? Now, why would that be? Did they have a fight or something?

Something? Yeah.

A fight? Yeah.

The next evening after their little meeting, Arthur had a little talk with Ron about leaving the house. It went sort of like…

"Leave. Now."

"But-"

"Now."

The door opens and Molly peeks in

"Is there something the matter?" She asks.

"No" they both say at the same time. They glare at each other.

"Okay." Molly leaves.

Outside of the door she whispers "Something is definitely going on." And leaves.

Back to the present, we find Ginny shadowing Ron in hopes of finding out what's wrong. Ron, being the oblivious idiot he is didn't even check to see if he's being followed and is unknowingly leading Ginny into danger. But he does it anyway.

Going into the forest, Ron suddenly notices the lack of heartless around. If that's unnerving in and of itself, then the scream from right behind him would have forced him to run for his dear life. But he recognized that scream. Where did it come from? Aw, screw it. They probably wouldn't recognize him anyways if he went in to rescue them.

Idiot never even realized that his family was the only living group that lived around there.

So, like the courageous gryphondor he was, he charged in and tore the heartless apart. Then, he found himself standing right in front of his sister. Oh, bad luck.

Now, sorry for the idiot comments about Ron earlier. He isn't really that much of an idiot as he is unthoughtful. He would truly rather rush into something and play it by ear than use his brain. It's a 'saving people thing' that Harry lacks in this life. It almost forces him to use his good nature to try and save the world. He could never knowingly betray someone.

So, here he was, standing in front of his sister, looking ready to just run and hope that she won't remember anything.

Good luck with that.

"…Ron?"

"Yes…?" He looked faint. Ready to go comatose.

Ginny looked unsure.

They stood like that for an unknown amount of time. Just staring at each other, not knowing what to do. A few seconds later, Ginny ran at him.

Arthur was once again in a meeting with the Order of Akatsuki. They still needed to replace number 12. Ideas were being thrown around for who to contact. The few British that talked, all recommended Brendon Potter. With that, other thoughts were added. Arthur, alias Pein, actually pushed for Harry Potter, on the basis that Dumbledor threw him to the dogs and if he were to be saved, then he would be forever in their debt.

"I couldn't care less who the fuck you want. Just get them so we can start with the fucking killing!" It was 13. Again.

"Shut up. Or I'll rip your head off. Again."

"Oh, fuck you." Rip. One might say "There goes another one."

Number 11 stared at the head that he just ripped off and was cursing him. "Fuck that hurt! What the fuck! Put my fucking head back on you cunt fuck! Damnit whore, Fuck you!" and so on and so forth. This continued until Pein called them to order.

"SILENCE!" And as always, that did the trick. The Jashinist's head was sewed back on with startling proficiency, and the meeting continued.

"We will begin by integrating a few of you into the Hogwarts ranks. There are several dead and missing teachers, so that shouldn't be a problem. The rest of you will continue the search for the key of light. I'll decide who will be our 12th member. This concludes our meeting."

Introducing Kakuzu as: Rian Little, American born and raised, illegal headhunter.

He is probably the most Republican, money loving bastard you'll ever meet. And he specializes in killing by the removal of the head. He'll do anything if the result is money and riches. Since his 30th birthday, he'd found a magic to turn his body into threads and become immortal. The idea just came to him, and he did it. All he needs to do is preserve the five hearts that reside in his chest.

His family was a rich one. They had everything that they could ever want or need. He had that until they began to recognize the signs of a magical being, and forced him out. He lived on the streets for two years, scavenging for food. He hated it. He soon realized that money was the answer to his problems.

So he killed. He killed and robbed and stole. And he was never caught. At least not by the police. He gained the attention of another group. An assassin's guild, if you would. And he worked for them for the next 18 years. He turned 30, and quit. He achieved immortality, and he was going to enjoy it. He had plenty of money, and a good life. He would get more money, but that was for the future.

A little later, he was visited by a man that went by the name Pein. That man promised him money and riches beyond his wildest dreams if his plan succeeded. And, with these members, it was a high probability that the plan would succeed.

So, Rian followed. He obeyed. He was prepared to kill, and he was prepared to betray if necessary.

He was the headhunter Kakuzu.

Several months later, in Fall of 1992. Not much happened in the Fall, other than a traumatic event for Hermione, a betrayal, and a temper tantrum of the century.

A door was broken down. Screams were heard, and there was a resulting power outage that spanned 12 miles wide. Men came storming into the house of one Hermione Granger carrying guns and knockout gas. The guns were loaded with tranquilizer meant to take down an elephant. I wonder what they needed them for?

The gas was dispersed first. It would knock out a father, but the mother and daughter were at that moment in hiding. They could see the men from the second story window. The house was surrounded.

Hermione was almost in tears when her mother fell unconscious. The electricity channeled unconsciously around her forcing the gas back. Hermione lay behind her mother. The woman looked dead, and Hermione couldn't tell the difference. Despite trying not to, the urge was just too strong. Hermione screamed from under her mother's queen size bed, red and blue blankets muffling it only slightly. The gas smelled almost like eggs, but Hermione wouldn't know that. If she didn't act soon, she would suffocate from lack of oxygen.

The hardwood floor creaked as the men burst through. They searched with no care to the items scattered about. A picture was stepped on. A vase was smashed. They were coming closer. So much closer. The reflecting red eyes of the masks they wore glared at her unknowingly. It was fear-inducing. Suddenly, the covers were pulled up. Hermione screamed.

Going back in time, we can meet back up with Brendon. He was still standing there, looking at the scene he happened upon.

He heard a voice. "The door is still closed." It echoed.

"hello?"

"So much to do. So little time."

Brendon looked around. He called out from his position on the great glass platform.

"Who are you? Show yourself!"

"That is of no importance. Now, you must open the door. The fate of the world is in your hands!"

"I said show yourself. I won't do anything until I know what I'm talking to!"

"Fool. I have no form. I am the essence of light. Now, step forward. Claim the weapon of your soul."

"What if I don't want to?"

"…" If the voice had a form, it would have punched itself in annoyance.

"Hellooooo?"

"Just step forwards."

"Fine." Brendon stepped towards the beautiful representation of a boy with auburn hair and a black and red outfit. A large key was in his hand, and he was slightly curled in on himself. Images of seven princesses made a circle around him. The boy's eyes were closed as if he were sleeping. A serene and calm expression was visible on his face.

As he entered the center, several platforms rose up. Six. Each held a different emblem.

The first one was a sword with three triangles on it. 'triforce.' The thought forced its way into his head. The power to banish the dark. The ability to fight forever more.

The second was a blade with the shape of a fairy on the side. It was a legendary blade of light that could heal as much as it could destroy. Excalibur.

Number three was a staff that radiated love. It had intricate carvings that wove around the length of it and ended in a crystal on the top. It once held the essence of the blood god, Jashin, but had since been purified. It was a retractable scythe that stored emotions of all it kills and uses them as power.

The fourth took the form of a simple necklace. It was the shikon no tama, and held the power to grant unparalleled control over the light. It could purify demons as well as grant demons great power.

The fifth was the white materia. It granted the user the ability to protect against any attack and heal any wound. It could revive anything and grant pure immortality.

The sixth was different. It almost called out to Brendon. But, it was odd. It didn't seem to be anything other than a book. It was a white book with no words written on it. It was the book of knowledge. It could do many things, including, but not limited to-

Anything ever written is included in its pages, accessible with just a question.

It can turn words into weapons. Anything described in it will come alive.

It is more of a grey power, but will possess any weak minded fool that touches it.

Brendon may be strong willed, but he is weak minded.

Brendon walked towards the white book, intent on grabbing it. He reached out, and went to grab it. Closer. Just a little closer. Almost there…

"STOP!"

The voice startled him, and he pulled back. Frantically, he turned this way and that, trying to discern where the voice came from.

"It's the light speaking again. Don't touch that book unless you're sure on your mental capability. It's dangerous."

"I'll be fine. Don't worry." He reached out to grab it again, but tripped. By complete accident, he knocked the book out into the depths of wherever the hell he was. The book fell into the oblivion that was presumed to be there.

"Damn. Well, I guess I could just go with the first thing. This triforce thing, whatever that means."

The master sword. Its full capabilities allowing unmatched power in the realm of magic. To create and destroy. To manipulate magic in such a way that it is an extension of yourself.

That power was perfect for Brendon. After all, he was a wizard.

Suddenly, everything began to collapse. The glass started breaking, slowly. It sped up. It was like watching the end of the world. That is what Brendon would later refer to it as. He tried to run. To prolong the inevitable. You can't stop what is unstoppable. The point was reached when he lost his balance. Falling, he turned over before hitting, and sat there, watching as the ground fell and he fell with it.

And fall, he did. He fell. And fell. It was like a rollercoaster on the downward slope. Or diving from a seriously high diving board. Until he landed, with unknown skill, onto the next platform down. He didn't know how he did it, but he did. It was time for the next trial given from the light, to the light.

The light spoke. "Now that you have taken up a weapon, you must fight."

The scream echoed through the suburb. Many people shivered or cringed, glad that they weren't the ones screaming. Glad that they were in their houses, away from whatever terror was being experienced at that moment.

Then, there was an explosion. Many peaked out of their homes to witness the light show. There was a sense of disgusting intrigue that led some out of their homes to witness what was happening. What they saw forced them to run back and hide for fear of being next.

What they saw could only be seen in a crappy horror movie. It was a scene of dead bodies that were melted beyond recognition. Their faces where the gas masks once were, were that of shards of metal and glass mixed in with melted and cauterized flesh. Many had no arms to speak of, and legs were bent at angles that a person would feel from just looking at it. There was no blood, though. The heat of the blast made sure that every cut or amputation was closed before any blood could make it out.

That was the only thing different than that of a horror movie. No blood. No guts. Only arms and carcasses strewn about like old trash at a junkyard. Unwanted and abandoned. A little girl ran away, nine years old. Her parents had died and she was now alone. Entirely.

A red haired boy watched with a pained expression as a man patted his shoulder. "You did a good job, son. Now we know what to look for. We'll catch that girl, and then we'll be the most powerful government in the world."

The boy just nodded. After all, he was the betrayer.

Ginny embraced Ron with a deep hug. Ron flinched at the unexpected contact, but didn't fight it. It was just so unexpected, after what the father had done. Ginny started mumbling to him.

"Ron… I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. Please."

Ron felt wet spots congregate on his chest where his sister's face was. He didn't know what to say. He just spoke.

"Umm… Ginny, you're crying."

Ginny backed up as if stung. She looked on with a face that had tears smeared on like a coat of wet paint. "I'm sorry. It's just…"

"Ginny, why are you apologizing?"

"Because. This!" She motioned to him. Ron didn't understand.

"Umm… I still don't know what you're talking about…"

She just sighed and took his arm. "Let's just go inside. You're still you, you idiot."

"Hey!"

And they walked back inside as if nothing ever happened. Ron did remember to put his glamour back on, if you're wondering.

I bet you all are wondering what was up with the temper tantrum, right? It has something to do with Harry. Let's go and check it out, shall we?

"GOD DAMN IT! I STILL DON'T HAVE ENOUGH POWER TO GET THE ETERNAL MANGEKYOU! FUCK THIS ALL! AARG! IM GOING TO FUCKING MURDER EVERYBODY! GOD DAMN IT!"

This went on for about a week strait, and involved the removal of an entire forest and a replacement lawn service due to the… unexpected… disappearances of the last one.


	10. Prologue: A warrior of light pt 3

**Prologue: A Kickass Warrior of Light.**

I think we should dedicate this chapter to Brendon and his superior fighting in the world of the awakening. After all, he was trained to fight his whole life, so he should at least be adequate at it.

And that's what he will do right now. A recap of how we last left him:

And fall, he did. He fell. And fell. It was like a rollercoaster on the downward slope. Or diving from a seriously high diving board. Until he landed, with unknown skill, onto the next platform down. He didn't know how he did it, but he did. It was time for the next trial given from the light, to the light.

The light spoke. "Now that you have taken up a weapon, you must fight."

And, continuing off of that point, page break included, he could easily tell that he was no longer safe. The multiple heartless surrounding him would accentuate that point. Of course, they were all very weak heartless, but the intimidation was still there. Maybe he should just go around and hit them on the head? He wouldn't get the chance, because they all suddenly swarmed him.

One thought popped into his head as he began his fight for his life.

"Wait. How is the essence of light able to control the heartless?"

And quite a thought that is.

With a quick dodge to the left, a shadow flew by him. He turned and swung before rolling out of the way of another. One down. 15 to go. He jabbed at the third that came within his range but missed. Four more came at him. He jumped, but one managed to cut his leg. He collapsed as he landed. Faster than lightning, they all came in for the kill. Brendon rolled out of the way and swung at them. Took three out. 12 to go.

This was going too slowly. He needed some other way to beat them if he was going to survive. He thought. Didn't the voice say that he could use magic with this sword? Yeah. He held the sword out as the heartless made another charge.

"Fire!"

He didn't know where the command came from, but he called it and it worked. The new fireball collided with the heartless, and in an explosion, seven were wiped out. But now he felt tired. He used too much energy in that one attack. There were five more left. He could hardly move. He managed to roll away from the first one, but the second and third hit him from the sides. He was bleeding from several cuts along his sides and leg. A drop of blood fell from his mouth.

He was desperate. He didn't know what to do, but he needed to do something. Anything. He called out in pain when he was stabbed through the stomach. A drop of green to add to the drops of red. It made the clear white tiles look dirtier than one could imagine. The circle was turning to a blackish red. It was hard to swallow. It was hard to breathe.

The sword heard him call out to it. Well, not technically it, but it could interoperate it in any way it wants. It responded in kind with a white light. It channeled its holy power through the boy and Brendon's cuts slowly stopped bleeding. At the same time, the light was forcing the other heartless away, and one unlucky one was caught in the light and disappeared.

Brendon, on the other hand, was feeling his energy return. He was ready. He could fight. He could win. He stood up and readied his sword. He ran forwards and delivered a fast horizontal cut. Energy streamed out in the form of light and cut through the offenders. Needless to say, the heartless were dead.

A door appeared in front of him. The now regular voice called out.

"This is the door to your future. If you should lose, you will die. If you should win, you will live. But for how long is up to you. I leave you with these parting words. The closer you get to the light, the greater your shadow becomes."

Brendon walked towards the door and raised on hand. The door looked like something you would find on a castle. It was large and towered above him. The hand he raised brushed up against the door, and with only a second of hesitation, he pushed. A light assaulted him from the crack that he made before the door burst open and blackness moved to take over the light. He was on a path leading to another one of those cursed platforms.

He followed the walkway of disjointed stairs. They were all separated by a foot of nothing that pushed upwards, preventing the process of falling. They went up and up, curving left first, then right. The feeling that he was being watched struck at him several times, like lightning bolts. He finally made it to the top.

The stairs vanished behind him. That, or they did a great job at blending in to the surroundings. A new voice called out to him.

"Can you defeat your darkness? Only once you have done that can you truly control the light."

Something was suddenly over him. Like when you put two images overtop of each other. One of the images suddenly moved, but it wasn't him that moved. It was the copy. Brendon suddenly found himself staring at… himself. At least, an evil version with glowing yellow eyes. They were wearing the same thing- black battle robes with the Hogwarts crest on it. They both had the same hair- still the same black hair that shone red in the sun. They held the same weapons. They had the same features.

But the copy had a grin, while the original had a frown.

The copy, out of nowhere, swung the sword up to get a quick cut on the original. Brendon leaned to the left, just barely avoiding the mortal strike. Brendon, in turn, stabbed at the darkness as a counter, but the darkness moved to the side then jumped back. It laughed. It laughed eerie.

"You'll never kill me that way!" And it kept laughing.

Brendon was getting nervous. In an attempt to stall his fear before it crushed him, he attacked. He rushed in and took a swing. The shade swung in the exact same pattern. Blow for blow, each attack and defense was leveled out at exactly the same time and with exactly the same force. It was like fighting a reflection.

And maybe it was. Was he simply fighting a reflection? A mirror made real? He took another swing. It was once again parried with the same exact strike. He jumped back, and so did the copy. He moved to the left, and the copy did the same thing before striking. Brendon parried. The difference between them was, when Brendon attacked, the copy matched it. When Brendon didn't attack, the copy still fought. It was a losing situation. And the copy didn't get tired.

Brendon got an idea. Why not use magic? Would that work?

He tried it. The copy tried to defend, but failed. The fire smashed into the copy's body and blew it back. It got back up.

The fire seemed to have scorched the shade, but not enough to really do anything. This battle was beginning to seem hopeless. A voice called to his mind. He instinctively knew it was the triforce.

"Your will is wavering. Do not give up hope. That thing feeds off despair. Believe in yourself, and the darkness will go away."

I know, it sounds crummy. But it will work. For some reason it always does. Unless you're completely badass like Harry, where you can't lose in the first place.

And that's what Brendon did. He believed in his power and found that his sword began to glow. It glowed a brilliant bright white that overtook all sight. When it ended, he found himself on another ring, surrounded by six people.

First, a little girl spoke. "We are the six sages of the triforce."

The girl had green hair and green eyes. Her eyes spoke of great wisdom beyond her years. This was only countered by the fact that she looked to be about… six.

The second one continued. "You, as the hero of the triforce, must save Hyrule from the darkness that plagues it. You must defeat the evil one. Only you, of the triforce of courage and wielder of the master sword, can truly vanquish the fake king."

The third (Describing them would be useless, they aren't worth the trouble.) went next. It was a fish… thing… that talked. "We will send you on your destiny, through many times and reincarnations. You must vanquish all that threatens the peace."

The fourth, a large chunk of talking rock, stood silent. His wisdom was spoken through the lack of noise. Everybody but Brendon understood. Brendon just watched with a sense of bad taste in the mouth. He was also wondering why he wasn't hungry.

The last two human looking people finished by forcing the hero of the triforce out of that realm, where he woke up. Where he woke up is a story for another time. If anybody wants to know, just play the entire Legend of Zelda games replacing Link with Brendon. Fun stuff, eh?

And after that… interesting adventure… Brendon found himself back in front of the heartless in Hogwarts, where he swung his arm in the accustomed motions for a sword and the heartless was gone. Brendon looked at his hand where a giant silver and gold key resided, and passed out.

For all of those wondering, the reason Brendon didn't react when he arrived in the Station of Awakening or fighting through the worlds of Hyrule was symbolized in his last thought before passing out.

_Wait. It WASN'T a dream!_

Dumbledor could only watch in growing horror as more heartless appeared from the shadows of the plain room. Why weren't the enchantments working? Work, damn it! He couldn't do anything but watch as his impending doom drew closer. Why did the boy-who-had-a-powerful-weapon have to go and faint? Now he was defenseless! And surrounded!

So, he just watched and accepted his fate like an old man would. He had already sown the seeds to the future of the light. Brendon would kill Harry and then lead the world to prosperity. He only wished he could be there to accept the credit for helping the boy along. Voldemort would come next after Harry, once the evil man was revived. It would all come down to the boy being a hero and everybody else losing. Albus would win. He always wins, even in death.

But, after waiting for several seconds, nothing happened. He had his eyes closed, for reference. He opened them and was surprised to find a glowing white… thing. It seemed like a heartless, but the coloring was wrong. And it seemed to be defending him. When will miracles cease to amaze?

Well, he is the leader of the light. It's only logical that the opposite of a heartless would work for him.

A little about these light anomalies:

They have no true name. While a heartless is the manifestation of the heart, these things were the manifestation of the soul. There are very few of them, but each one holds great power. It is unknown how they came to be, but they have only recently come in to being. Their goal: the purification of all darkness. The meaning:

The destruction of all life that holds darkness.

While the heartless seek to send planets into darkness, the creatures of light seek to bring all life into light. Because this is impossible, they do the next best thing. Extermination. But, for the purpose of this retelling, they listen to Dumbledor and protect all that he wishes to have protected. They will become the main defenders of Hogwarts in the near future. All dark-doers beware. Unless your name is Harry Potter.

On a side note, Harry is still pissed off about his lack of ocular productivity. He needs about the same power as the sanbi if you go by tailed beasts. He only has just over nibi level chakra.

On yet another side note, you'd best be informed that each type of energy increases other energy, but the amount is determined by the intensity and type. When he got power over darkness, his chakra level jumped from gennin to jounin. A big difference, but not that big. When he got demonic energy, though, it jumped from kage (he'd been training) to ichibi. And, his reserves would grow at an accelerated pace.

It would be approximated to be three years before Harry got enough power to evolve his eyes. Either that, or he would have to find an alternative…


	11. prologue: swords and fire

**Prologue: A Road of Swords and Thunder**

Another year had passed and Harry had slunk out of rage and gone into depression before training once again. He had gained a demon form and had trained in its unique powers along with his newly obtained human form demon power. Some of which includes the following:

Greater power over darkness.

Walking through walls.

Levitation.

Telekinetic abilities including thought reading (he already has, but now can read without any trouble at all) telekinesis, mind control upgrade, influencing actions without anybody realizing it.

Mass illusions.

Invisibility.

Death through touch.

Each of the aforementioned abilities are extensions of his demon form and are accessible in human form. They are quite the list of abilities, huh? You'll get a list of the demon form abilities when he actually goes demon. I'm sure there's something in this world that can piss him off enough for that to happen. We will just have to wait and see.

You all know his approximate chakra levels. As for his demonic energy levels, well, it is around the same, if not a little less, than Sesshomaru when that demon was in his prime. His darkness was directly correlated with his magic levels, as both are of a spiritual aspect so they both siphon off each other. You could say that with all of the practice he was having, he was at about the level of a mage. In magic only, he was about level 40. He was, in all sense of all words, formidable. You would not want to cross him.

His final awakening would be in the spring of his tenth year of physical life. It would be found in the form of a sword, turned into a sword.

Harry had decided that, to remain inconspicuous, he needed a normal sword. The weapons he had at the moment would draw way too much attention, so he needed something that looked at least slightly normal to carry around. And he wanted to be able to fight in close with another person and still have as much of an advantage as he could possibly have. That meant getting a normal looking weapon that is used for close or mid range fighting. The only problem was finding a place that sold actual good quality, working swords. He had Vernon on that for the last week while Dudley picked up on the chores and cooking. He was apparently a very good chef, and took pride in that fact. Harry could care less.

The other day, Vernon managed to find a good weapons supplier. It was twenty two kilometers southeast of their current position. They were going to travel there on that day.

So with that, Harry pulled on a light brown long-sleeved shirt made of a nylon substance. His jeans were already on. His power over light and fire burned the perception of reality, allowing his swords to go completely unnoticed by the population around him. He was ready to leave. Vernon, ever the obedient pet, followed along with a serious face. A slightly proud gleam had been in his eye all day. It was 3:26 PM.

Harry danced out the door with that grace that is always in everything he does. It's a subconscious thing that would remind anyone watching of a predator stalking out of hiding. Every movement has a purpose. Nothing was moved too far, and nothing fell too short. The maximum output with the minimum effort. It was perfection, if you thought predatory grace is perfection. I think that it's too serious and a bit… wild.

To describe the day would be redundant. It was day. No clouds were in sight. It was like staring up at a still ocean. The birds swam through the tides. The sun was a hole in the sky, slightly to their left. The breeze locked in a stalemate with the heat, making a perfect afternoon. All Harry could think through this was the taste of metal that would soon be in his hands. Everything was almost complete for his start of Hogwarts.

For his entrance into the magical world.

The two men entered the old car. It was slower, but necessary to enter the city. Vernon drew the key and silkily, almost cunningly if it was possible, slipped the key into the ignition. He turned it as was flipping a coin. Then he sped off.

The car took him to an antique craft shop on Mary Street. It was a pretty well off street, and the shop was well kept. It showed a display case throwing their valuables out to the public's eye. Japanese style. Perfect. The shop looked a lot like a Japanese house. The stereotypical kind, with the red roof and sides that sprang out into swirls and intricate structures that only a Japanese house would have. Red shingles looked like a dragon's scales. The blue siding with pristine paint jumped out, signifying its' differences between the scenic regular shops and its' uniqueness.

Harry once again showed his deadly dance in through the doors of the red spot in a world of grey. He found himself thrown into a new world. The world of swords and samurai.

A sign stood suspended over the shop. It was a quite ironic name. It made sense.

The name of the shop: Ten-ten samurai antiques.

It made so much sense.

Every wall of the shop had some sort of weapons case, and shelves full of small trinkets that looked to be from a time a long ways off. Harry looked around while Vernon stood back at the door. A cashier watched from a distance. Warnings were thrown up around the place about minors touching the merchandise. It was expressly forbidden. Vernon began to follow as a precaution to watch his charge's back. Not that Harry needed it, but the company was needed.

Harry made his way to the first weapons case. It was filled with several swords of varying lengths and colors. He reached down to pick one up. Suddenly, he reacted and threw his hand out to the side and caught an arm aiming to slap his hand out of the case. A yelp was heard. Harry twisted the hand behind the owner's back.

"Don't touch me. Do you understand?"

Vernon took that moment to finally catch up. He was a little late, but it was better than nothing.

"Let go of me!" She began to struggle. Her shoulders swung from side to side in an attempt to break free. Harry shoved her further into the ground.

"You will NOT touch this Sessh- err… Harry ever again. Do you understand?"

"Somebody! Help!" When the woman realized that she wouldn't get out, she called. Her cries would fall on deaf ears. "Somebody! Please!" Tears formed.

Harry threw her to the ground, not caring anymore. It was a waste of his time. She immediately ran to the back of the store. Vernon watched. Harry began to look back at the swords. He mumbled "pathetic" before reaching down to grab the sword he originally wanted to pick up. It had a blue handle with a red dragon spiraling up its' length. He didn't like it.

Leaving the sword, he moved to pick up another one. Another dud. None of these swords would work for him. There was a special weapon reserved just for him, but he would have to look. And he did look. He turned around after examining the second case. He heard something with his enhanced hearing. Listening closely, it sounded like small beeps. Three. Ringing.

A phone. It dawned on him. The woman! She was probably calling the police!

"Shit!" He got out. Vernon rushed to the back as soon as he realized what was happening. A bang and the sound of a voice speaking echoed to the front of the shop.

"Hello, please state your emergency. Hello?" And the phone was hung up. They probably had ten minutes at the most before police came to investigate. It was procedure. Harry had to work fast. He rummaged through the place, throwing weapons everywhere while he looked for the perfect weapon for himself. The place would soon have a metal floor, capable of cutting through the shoes that walked upon it. The sirens began to blaze in the distance.

Harry hastened his search.

A car stopped outside the shop. A man in a recognizable police uniform stepped into the shop. He was lean, with a runner's physique. The beginnings of a mustache were sprouting from his upper lip. Metallic blue eyes looked over the store, partially hidden behind dirt colored hair which was shaved into a crew cut. A gaunt face was the shelf that held those eyes and hair. Placed as an eye catcher for the sake of referencing. A gun holster strapped to his side found itself suddenly open and empty. A hand found a mysterious weight in it. Scrawny fingers felt their way around a cold handle. The gun was ready, in the hands of a man that has never shot before.

The shop was empty. There were no visible living things in there. But, from the look of things, there had been a fight. Weapons and figurines were scattered over the floor. The man was hesitant to go inside. His curiosity got the better of him. The officer stepped inside, carefully avoiding any of the chaos that may or may not impale his tender feet. Nothing was left on the shelves. Everything had fallen to the floor in the obvious fight, but there were no unconscious bodies left for the picking.

Nothing was broken, either, as if somebody wanted to throw the authorities off their trail and meticulously placed the china and armor on the floor in just the right positions. But, the guard didn't notice this. He just kept moving forwards. He looked around warily. He made it to the back of the store and opened the door to the manager's office. In the light of the outside, he was able to make out a body in the blackness. He rushed forwards and checked for any breathing. Negative. He turned on a light. There was nothing dangerous. He took out a phone and called for help. An ambulance, anything.

The man got down, and with all of the training he had, attempted CPR, as he was told to do if the target isn't breathing. Continue until it is confirmed that the target is dead by a medical professional or taken over by someone more qualified.

He had never done this before. He had never seen anyone in this sort of position. He had never had to help anyone. It was scary. His breathing sped up. He suddenly forgot what to do. Tears started to spill out of his eyes. He sniffed. He didn't know what to do. He didn't. He couldn't think. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.

Harry watched on in pity, invisible, with the man Vernon. He quickly went back to looking for the right sword. Another and another were set to the side as more joined the pile. The policeman fell to the ground with a thump as sobs formed under his breath. He was pathetic. Harry just kept looking.

Soon, the cry of an ambulance and two police cars crashed onto the scene. Harry, by then, felt a pull that connected him with something in that store. He just had to find it, dammit! The doors opened. He froze to a statue, not wanting to be heard. Vernon was still unmoving.

The men rushed in and pushed the weapons to the side so the paramedics could get through. Harry ended up backed into a corner as the police began to examine the area for a pre-analysis. Harry decided now was the time to leave and watch from a safer vantage point. He and Vernon, still invisible, crept towards the door. Well, Vernon did. Harry went fast enough that nothing could have possibly been disturbed. Harry made it to the door. He waited. Wouldn't do much good to leave the pig here.

Vernon made it about the time the police found the two people in the back room. The paramedics went to work, carrying a stretcher in for the two people. Wouldn't do much good for the woman. She was dead with a puncture wound in her head. A spare nail found on the counter with a drop of blood and brain matter. Right through the spinal cord. No, she definitely wouldn't be waking up.

Harry opened the door.

He realized he just made a mistake.

A bell rang, drawing the attention of the two police. When the door didn't close, they walked over. A breeze pushed through, cooling the sudden fire that seemed to cover the room. There was no fire. The police readied their guns. Harry realized he made another mistake. He didn't move, and the self closing door didn't close. Vernon was behind him, moving away. Harry wouldn't get hurt.

The two uniformed men opened fire. The glass across the street shattered after the first three shots. A child was hit in the arm. Harry and Vernon became visible, and ran. The bullets of the police that now stood frozen going through Harry as if he was only a ghost. Vernon was out of range, and didn't sustain any injuries.

Finally, one of the frozen men moved. The movement was that of a man attempting a dive without practice jumps. He fell, and hit the ground. Out cold. His pearly white skin had a smear of red from the place his face impacted the ground- his over sized nose. The other man looked down and dropped his gun. He had never tried to take a life before. Not many had. He shook, shivering like he had a cold. He sat down, eyes wide at both what he saw and what he did. His blue-green eyes holding the human emotion of fear.

The paramedics came out as soon as they heard the first shot. One of them hesitated on moving, but when the officer collapsed, his instincts came forth and he jumped into action securing the men and heading them out to the ambulance. They would be fine, but would need monitoring to assure that they don't choke on their vomit in their states of shock. It was a bad day.

Understatement of the year. Or month if you're Harry Potter.

A girl came running through the door of a large house. The house was not really a house, but a mansion. It belonged to Severus Snape, potions extraordinaire. The girl carried a head of golden ponytails and two knives on her sides. Though, nobody would notice. She was under a complex runic illusion grafted by Severus to hold a disguise that no 'muggle' could see through. In place of her unnatural natural appearance was that of a bushy haired bookworm. She was, technically, a bookworm. She loved books.

In fact, that was the reason she was running into the mansion now. She ran into the old four story place with a great grin crying out "Sevvy! Sevvy! Can we go to the bookstore now? You promised me that we could go today! Please?"

And the response was the usual "No! I'm busy right now! I'll take you later."

So, the girl decided to pester him in the way she usually does. "PLEEEEEEAAAAAASE?"

The man sighed from behind the door. "Later."

"Promise?"

"Fine. Sure. I promise." He sounded like a snake the way his 's' cut off at the end. Hermione always compared her new uncle with a snake. Ever since she met him.

I believe this calls for the 'oh so anticipated' flashback without any italics making it as confusing and irrational as possible to create a bad picture and adl cosadnfe ovsadgnavlnjalgnar…

As I was saying.

Here it is.

Hermione had just run away from the madness and graveyard that was her house. She had just killed for the first time, and had lost her parents. One would think that she was miserable. She was.

She had melted and scorched the flesh of most of the people in her house. She didn't know why those men were there, but she knew that they weren't there to play. They gave off the feeling of death. Like they worked for death. They were death's assailants. They killed on order, and accept it. The government agents were there for her.

And she killed them in an excruciatingly painful way. She killed them and her parents. She couldn't control her power. She could hurt someone else if she wasn't careful.

The bottom line was: She could kill.

She had killed.

She was a killer.

She sobbed. Tears ran down her face. The smell of death and burnt flesh was clinging on her like rain. Only it wouldn't come off. It reeked. Hermione almost passed out from the stench. It was almost as horrifying as her previous experience. It kept reminding her. Every time she saw a storm she would probably remember. All she wanted to do was to forget.

Finally seeing where she was, she ducked into a side alley. She leaned against the cold brick wall. The ground rose up to greet her. The yellow dress she wore was stained grey from dust and dirt. Tears painted themselves on her matching shirt. They drew lines which crossed the white ones, coloring the white a murky pale. Her dress stuck to her body, hugging it like she hugged her knees to her chest.

She kept crying. She kept it up until a voice broke through her sobs.

"Hey, kid! Come here!" She looked up, but the sobbing didn't stop.

A grisly looking man was just behind the corner leading further into the ally. The shadows covered most of his face, but his smile was visible. A pointed beard stuck out of his lower lip. His smile and beard did little to calm the girl.

He motioned for her to come. Hermione didn't move.

"Come on. I'm not gonna hurt ya. Just come here."

"I- I m-might hurt y-you."

The man's dark visage seemed to vibrate with laughter. "Don't worry. I don't think you'll hurt me. Just come here."

Hermione stood up slowly. Shakily. She didn't know what to do. Maybe she could ask the man for help. She stumbled before regaining her balance. Her legs told her to sit down. Her mind told her to go to the man to ask for a way out of this nightmare. She listened to her mind.

This decision took her down the alleyway past dumpsters full of black and white bags. The red cracked bricks turning an ever present black similar to the surrounding world. At least to her point of view. She eventually made it to the corner. She was assaulted.

As soon as she turned, a piece of metal found its way onto her head and decided it was time for her to take a little nap. The silver cutting a gash into the side of her skull was left with a small dent. A man chuckled as he dragged a body behind the corner and grabbed some rope. It would be some time before she awoke. Let's fast forwards to after she is tied up and awake.

Hermione woke up. That was obvious. She tried to move, but something was keeping her restricted. That was just as obvious. Something was running down her back. Now, the identity of that, not so much. Or maybe it was. You never know.

Whatever you think, it doesn't matter. Because what was happening at that moment was a man was running his hands down her back and reaching around to molest her breasts. Hermione was panicked. She looked around and found a naked man feeling her naked body. She didn't like it. Especially when she was tied up.

She had no idea what to do, though. She didn't want to hurt anybody else like she did her parents. She was afraid of what she could do. Her fear bit at the back of her neck. It was like a leech. It wanted to suck her dry. It wanted to leave nothing left. And she was completely helpless to its will.

The girl wouldn't use that power ever again. That's what she decided. Because of this decision, she could quite possibly be raped and killed. The tears that had dried around her eyes started painting themselves along her cheeks once again. The sobs came back harder, but her mouth was gagged, preventing her from screaming. Only muffled yelps exited those lips. And sobs. The tears stained the white ripped bed cloth that made up the gag. The hands continued down her body.

It was terrible.

Hermione tried to free herself with little success. Her hands were bound at the wrists and tied to the pipe running through the dank wall behind her. Her legs were tied apart in the perfect position for a man with a mission. And the nine-year-old girl could do nothing about it without resorting to the newly named 'that.' There was only one person that held the key to her freedom at that point.

And he just eviscerated the bastard that was a pinprick from doing something more illegal than he was.

With a single blood smear left on the ground, Severus Snape walked up and untied the girl. One wand motion was all it took. He, in his black cloak that billowed in a unique intimidating manner saved only for him and Voldemort and Harry (And maybe Dumbledor. We'll have to see.) he turned and left. He shouldn't be there longer than he had to be. He had to be somewhere. It was only his luck to come across a heinous act and be in a position to make it better. The girl would be fine.

But, the girl was following him. And it was getting annoying. He would be sure to end all of the girl's little dreams of a savior.

"Girl." He stopped walking. His robes fell still. "Why do you see fit to follow me?"

Hermione stood still for a moment before charging the intimidating man and hugging him. Her tears were rubbing into Snape's robes.

"Thank-you-thank-you-thank-you! Thank you so much. Thank you…" She was almost hanging off of him. Her face buried itself into his chest. Snape had absolutely no idea what to do. He just rose an eyebrow. No need to let anybody know of his lack of knowledge in the area of comfort.

"Go away." Very smooth. You'll get all the ladies.

The girl didn't move.

"Tell me. Why are you still here?"

"B-because you saved me. And I don't have anywhere else to go."

Severus' eyebrow rose a fraction higher. "Then go to your mother. I have places to be."

"I-I don't h-have a mommy anymore…"

The older man's eyes narrowed slightly. Not that anybody would notice. He was trying to formulate what to say next. And not make it sound terrible. "Then go to your father, girl. And leave me alone."

She only cried harder. "He's g-gone, too."

Severus sighed. This was going to take a while. Why he didn't just apparate away, he would never understand. "Then where do you live?"

"I d-d-don't know. I just l-left h-home. There were bad people t-there."

Snape's eyebrow was starting to hurt. He let it down. "Who are these 'bad people'?"

"T-they came with m-masks and g-guns. They scared me and now my m-mommy and daddy are gone."

Snape looked on in sympathy. It didn't show, but the man wanted to throw his heart on the floor before the girl. He only stood resolute. Unmoving. He seemed untouchable. The only thing that threw that theory down the drain was the little girl still hugging him. The girl continued.

"I d-did something. It's all my fault. They're all dead because of me! P-please h-help. Help me! I don't want to hurt anyone else! Please. P-please… I don't want t-to kill… please… please."

The girl continued in her helpless pleading. Snape could only watch. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. Maybe he should take her with him and figure out what to do later? But he couldn't do that. Especially if she was muggle. But didn't she say that she did something to kill those people? If she was magical, then he would be able to take her to the magical world. He just couldn't take her in or his standing in society would go down. Taking in a muggleborn.

But, he could do it in secret. That wouldn't hurt. His property was secluded and he had plenty of money. Yes, he could do that.

He spoke. "Girl, stop crying. Tell me your name."

She spoke. "M-my name is H-Hermione." Next she wiped some tears out of her eyes. The dam was being rebuilt. The tears slowed. Rivers became streams.

"Good. You may call me Snape. My name is Severus Snape. Is that understood?"

"Yes Mr. Snape. You know, you sound a little like a snake."

"Thank you," he said absentmindedly. "You said you didn't have a home? Then get over here."

"Y-yes sir."

"You do not have to be afrai-"

He was cut off by the sudden shouting that came from the edge of the alleyway.

Distant shouting. Orders being given. "You! Take a team and scour the rooftops. Get to every vantage point you can. We will find the girl. We can't have something that dangerous running around. Fight with extreme prejudice.

The orders kept flying around corners with men following right behind. Team cappa! Hit the alleys. Team Epsilon, you will take the houses. Act like thieves. You're all drama fags, right? Go! GO! GO! Let's move out!"

And come they did. Almost as soon as the orders had been given, a grenade rolled into the alley that the two current protagonists of this flashback were in. Gas began to filter out of the microscopic holes in the shell and Hermione screamed and ran away from Snape as he was about to apparate away.

"Shit," Snape cursed. He turned and ran after Hermione. She was quite fast for her age. And she seemed to be speeding up. Static danced around her feet. Blue sparks laced her legs and ankles. Snape slowed for a moment. Realizing his mistake, he sped back up and tried to catch her.

Hermione just kept speeding up. Her speed was superhuman. The electricity was both making her movements faster by stimulating her muscles and stimulating her mind resulting in her slowed down perception of time. Like the sharingan. It also increased her memory for that moment in time, as well as her potential for logical analysis. She wasn't a genius. She a god of knowledge.

And she was outrunning Snape an incoming towards her possible demise. But we all know that she survives and ends up calling Snape 'uncle'. The only reason that this is the outcome is Snape's resortment to a temporary stunning charm aimed right at the small of her back.

That sent the girl careening towards the ground where Snape was able to catch her and apparate before anything else happened. Such as Hermione finding some way out of his binding spell.

The masked men came around the corner a second later and confirmed that there was no girl in the area. The smoke dissipated and the Prime Minister declared an unidentified terrorist strike. People, already in fear of the heartless, now feared that another country was attacking them. The Minister lost his heart to the heartless a while later and was replaced by a woman named Elsie Churchill, who was in no way related to Winston Churchill. She would die in the same way sometime during Harry's magic schooling.

But, that's not important.

Let's travel back to the future.

Hermione has some book shopping to get to.

"Come on. Move faster! We have to get there before the place closes."

"I don't think it's going to close before we get there. It closes in three hours."

Snape smiled. He truly loved the girl. He was glad that he picked her up that day in the alley after her… traumatizing day. He had helped her cope with her unusual powers. She was an elemental. They haven't been seen for hundreds of years and were considered myth, but here was one, right in front of him. How could such a fragile girl be so special? So powerful? It was unbelievable.

They neared the apparation point. Snape held Hermione's hand, and she squeezed in a ready gesture. Distorted space closed in on them, twisting and contorting their bodies to the point of improbability, they disappeared.

Only to reappear inside of an alley next to a book store. One of Hermione's favorite places in the world. One look at the sign, and she teleported to the door and inside. She gazed, mesmerized once again by the fountain of knowledge, before digging in like a kid would a birthday cake.

I don't know why someone would like such high concentrations of sugar, but since I don't eat that much, I can't really say anything. Let's wait for Hermione to finish. Passing the time with Some Harry action would probably benefit us all. And Ron will soon be an important player. Molly's love and Dumbledor's manipulations will make sure of that. Who else will join the fray?

If you're wondering about Gaara, then don't. He's not important right now. We'll see him again when he comes to our residential school for the gifted. I use gifted in a very loose way.

Think magical.

Think soon. We're almost there. With Harry at the age of 9, there are only 3 years left until the day of rewards. And seven years after would be the day of rejoice. And one year after rejoicing, will come reckoning. Soon, judgment day will come to pass.


End file.
